(escapril, day 29: may flowers)

I am tired and footsore and my head hurts something awful.

My lips are chapped and I can barely speak-

But let me think back.

Why do I ache?

From dancing, coughing, laughing in a crowd.

Relentless motion, sending my soul upwards.

Why am I on the cusp of voicelessness?

From singing my heart out under the lights.

Today is one of the good old days, no matter the soreness.

I am glad to be tender, glad to rub bruises and bandaid blisters.

They are reminders of strange, wild bursts of joy that come

From doing my best, in working my hardest.

From shining my star, proud and exultant.