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Waking Dream

After months of agony with ovarian cysts, I have simple dreams: of autonomy, movement and play.

By Elle SchillereffPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read

I want to attack life when I'm well.

With a lightning crack of joy,

With welling energy bubbling and roaring and careening off the edge.

I want to take the world in both hands,

Squeeze the sleek roundness of it,

Feel its oceans splash over my knuckles,

Feel its forest tops graze my skin.

I want to fly, higher and higher,

This body that's spent so long nailed to the ground.

I want to spin with it, dance with it, twist with it,

The acrobatics of the starling,

Scrawling ribbons across a summer sky.

I want to wade into water and dive in deep,

Cut through like an arrow,

Play, play, play like a child instead of crying, broken-bodied.

Let the water scoop me into its hand,

Peeling a portion of gravity from the heft of me.

I want to lie in a pool of sunshine,

With the damp burls of moss under my fingers,

To trace the rough skin of bark,

And to watch my dog dart between trees,

Her eyes wild bright points of joy in the sifting light.

Stream of Consciousness

About the Creator

Elle Schillereff

Canadian born, now settled on the west coast of Cymru/Wales. (she/her)

Avid writer of poetry and fiction, holistic massage therapist, advocate for women's health, collector of stray animals.

Grab a cup of tea and hang with me for a while.

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    Written by Elle Schillereff