Some days I am stagnant. Instead of bubbling over in cascading inspiration, the fountain merely trickles. The waters muddled, murky and still.
Inertia folding in on itself, stifling the tiniest call to action.
I sigh and light a candle.
I cloak myself in your Light.
Cracking my shell and peeking out into the light, my legs again wobbly and untested and my wings glued to my body.
I open again to cycles of death and rebirth in vulnerable multitudinous moments.
Courage to be born again and again and again...
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