What is it like to be her?

Never sure of what to do; Unsure of every decision

How to describe her?

Fickle, Fickle, Fickle

 

She can never seem to stick to one path

She sees one, but then the whispers confuse her

Bringing other paths into her sight

 

She knows the whispers mean no harm

They only wish to guide her

Steer her onto the right path

The path she is meant for

 

A path that she herself is not even certain of

 

Shall she follow the staff of Cadeceus?

Held by the hands of Hermes...

 

Correction, the staff of Asclepius?

Held by the great Asclepius himself?

Shall she run into his arms?

Grasp his namesake rod, like so many others?

 

Or should she turn her back on him?

Turn away from the white walls

And set her sights on a different path

 

The sky blue comforter

Covered in fluffy white pillows

Pillows that entrance her with visions of colors and swirls

Books and Pages

Dreams and Fantasies

 

Should she follow that path?

Run down it like a child on Christmas?

Jump into its arms of cotton with the sky blue view?

Let it wrap her in its tight embrace?

Where fully enveloped, her mind will wander?

Where the pillows will fill her thoughts of creativity and pages?

 

When?

When will she find her answers?

When will her path become clear?