Katharsis

Printing the last page of the third revision as if clearing out the last of the roaches from the kitchen of my heart. I feel like a bird singing from the top of a plane-tree on a bright sunny day. Singing a dainos of love. Writing a poem without thinking why. Typing with a blinking curser that only blinks when I pause to think. The end of a semester is invigorating, charged with knowledge, inspired by new thoughts and ideas. I feel like a phoenix taking flight again on a new journey, to write, read, create, love and laugh.