I am a ship with legs. A cool wind blows through my hair today. The temperature is cool and the humidity is low. I sail on a road with other ships. My legs take me to places containing treasures, traps, and tricky obstacles. I collect my small triumphs and promptly forget where I put them.
I am a ship without an anchor, and I feel restless without one.
When my notebook is open and my pen is ready in my hand, I realize what my anchor is. The page and the pen work together to produce anchoring words. Words describe me as a ship, and I become one. Words can anchor me by giving my imagination a safe harbor. Even as I move through my day, the page calls to me with kind urgency and love.
"Anchor"
I am a ship with legs. A cool wind blows through my hair today. The temperature is cool and the humidity is low. I sail on a road with other ships. My legs take me to places containing treasures, traps, and tricky obstacles. I collect my small triumphs and promptly forget where I put them.
I am a ship without an anchor, and I feel restless without one.
When my notebook is open and my pen is ready in my hand, I realize what my anchor is. The page and the pen work together to produce anchoring words. Words describe me as a ship, and I become one. Words can anchor me by giving my imagination a safe harbor. Even as I move through my day, the page calls to me with kind urgency and love.