History can be blurry, but after traumatic events, the clouds of memory drift over the vague horizon of the mind and haunt us. Tease us. Resurrected events long buried come back and reengauge us. What is this invisible presence that we feel around us? How close do we stand to the edge? Are we close? Life used to feel like the kind spirit of warm wind on a spring day that lifted the tree leaves and soared our kites. We need to preserve that half light dragon energy gifted to us from the day. Please speak to us. Remind us of the warm enveloping dream smoke from the sky.
