shouts of joy

A stranger, except for his stance and eyes reflecting in my rear view mirror red, blue and white flashing lights, a beating in my chest and there were so many red flags.  A sight so faint, familiar in a dream still reality in my veins recirculating like used library books ancient and neglected  a system of routine We're kids hide-n-seeking for fun love waiting for that affirmedness who will ride a roller coaster  over every bump in the seat eating pop rocks that make us laugh But we're adults trying to fit the mold desiring complexity, mystery, proficiency selfish promises and so many words explaining nothing and something with mere hope for approval One glance at a stranger  clear eyes of promises broken uncertain his stance   fixed in a rearview mirror  is enough. 

Sharing is a thing I don't do we'll. Too often I figure I'm just far t oo selfish to want to share with other people, but maybe my heart needs some healing. Maybe I'm selfish, but maybe I'm afraid of slipping from the place where we've been planted, from the safe strongholds that have brought so much healing. I understand that sharing a bowl of curry isn't going to hurt me, and somedays I really don't want to share my curry. And I know that sharing a skirt that has no sentimental value is going to be just fine. I get that. I share living space pretty well these days, and dirty dishes in the sink don't bother me like they used to. In fact I prefer to share some things. I prefer sharing a tent when camping, or a pot of coffee, a good book with lots of underlining, or a ride to the beach or mountains. However there are some things I'm having difficulty sharing lately.  Yesterday I was on Hayden Lake. The glorious jewel of a lake that has been my sum...