Curator of My Space

I am the curator of my hidden space.The revelations come as a trickle, a wink —a river of stars while I dream.Ideas are heldin the secrecy of growth,near the fruit of the womb,under the cloak of becoming. While I carry hiddenness,I no longer hide me.I’ve taken off the gray cloak of doom.Vibrancy is my outfit of choice.Even as I glow —My antennae explore the room for discernment.What is necessary to share, to refrain from speaking?With this inquiry,I become the curator of my open space. Sensitivity to myself and others is a gift I hold.I do my best to meet others…