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Escaped from the lab coat,
Devoid of ask analytic tools,
I dive into the garden
And let geometries of leaves
And flying perfumes surprise me.
They narrate a story
Written only for me
That will take me away
For the most precious moment of the day.
Refill these hands
That worked hard and bled today
To add beauty and respect
To old clothes.
Hands not smooth and not shy
That travel quick through the stitches
And join the borders of a hot Sunday.
Give them water, a shake, and a rest
In your lap
Until fresh again.
I pushed myself
And the sofa is far away.
The green around gives a new pace
To my breathing and expectations
For this life
That’s never enough.
Lose control, embrace your music,
Restart fresh each time.
Jingle jingle in my head
That ‘ you should’ I push away
With mails and documents
That only drain.
Holidays are often theoretical
And the duties hang on my arm.
More practice is needed.
The answer to your shaking
Sits patiently hidden
at the bottom of those drawers
Or in the farther of the thoughts.
You have attended all tasks in sight for today
But cannot sit still and breathe.
Running in the wheel and digging
The missing piece emerges
With what has to be done
To feel worthy and complete for today.