Whistling echoes pulling through

   Whistles of the wind as it pulls through the leaves.
Tightly weaving an intricate dance over, under. Ah
so gentle is the echo.

   Softly the sun draws lengths to cover the last
bit of land with radiance. Holding still the eyes to
stun.

   Shh I say to the birds. Shh I say to the passing
car. Eliminating the sounds one by one as to just
inhale the sight. Closing my eyes to allow the view
to stain a memory.

    Currently waiting for face to become more of
a neutral whitish pink. I can deal with the glare of
"Are you okay?" over the inquistition of where I went.

    Hmm. Inhaling the freshness. Clinging to the
cool touches of breeze. Giving the relaxing moments
of exhales before even thinking about exiting car.

    Not a fixed yet. Still a bit teary. Still have the
need for more fresh air. So if I went into apartment
only to drift to porch/ balcony would I be consider
rude or insensitive?

    Shrugs. Who knows until I attempt it.

    And yet some twitch inside me knows, screams
that yes I would be the above things and more. Ah
I cannot please everyone. Yet, still, I try.

    Hoping. La just noticed that not only does my
face turn colors when crying but my lips are darker
roses. Ugh. The pouty, sultry look. NO!

    Alas I have made myself laugh. Not cynical either.
Hmm. Now sits the smile I thought was gone.
Perhaps the realization that I still do look beautiful
even in my worst moments.

             Thank you Jehovah!

    Ah perhaps his intentions. La. Perhaps. Still
what Father would not want to uplift his daughter,
his children?

    Shh. Listen. Feel.

                         Now just breathe, Mary.