Textures and lines,
a time capsule for where I’ve been. 
The reflective surface encouraging me deeper;
into loving,
into seeing,
into letting go.

My natural bent is towards holding on,
gripping control,
wrapping myself in a protective shell.
Immovable,
yet careening towards burnout.

So I allow myself to get softer as time moves on.
Like the earth and how it’s shaped,
even with mere trickles running across it.
Worn down;
but not in the way we think.
Worn down does not equal exhausted.
It’s more of a giving way to life,
and people,
and unknowns.

Gently giving in,
and being shaped,
by the beauty held in every magical moment.

Eastern Shoshone, Cheyenne, Crow, Cayuse, Umatilla, and Walla Walla land