text and images britt-arnhild
Some days my thoughts are like an old wooden rowing boat.
Rich colours almost washed away.
Unable to float.
Water seeping in.
Upside down.
I let my thoughts float.
Out into the deep ocean.
Washed clean.
It feels right.
I cling to, I let go.
The green boat has its history.
So has my life.
A rich history.
I flip back a few pages.
Laughter in the air.
Sorrows.
Despair.
Joy.
Temptation to flip forward.
But that´s cheating:
Life is
here
now.
Ands my thoughs turns out to be
a prayer.
