Art of Letting Go, a freelensed photo poem. Words by Leslie St. John.

Ageless, soft in my center.  I run         to return to you.

Ageless, soft in my center.

I run         to return to you.

In the beginning was the Promise,  light of foot,  cathedral spires,  faded stamps on fine china.

In the beginning was the Promise,

light of foot,

cathedral spires,

faded stamps on fine china.

Forever,  a corset I laced myself,  breath in miniature.

Forever,

a corset I laced myself,

breath in miniature.

Skirts rustling dry grass, by the fistfulls I run.

Skirts rustling dry grass, by the fistfulls I run.

Red earth warming in the sun,  cliff-perched to hear you,  I am tall, open.

Red earth warming in the sun,

cliff-perched to hear you,

I am tall, open.

This is who I am when doubt falls away...

This is who I am when doubt falls away...

Free, wild, unafraid.

Free, wild, unafraid.

Blurred vision of who I could be.

Blurred vision of who I could be.

Grief settles into a ceramic bowl,  soft and round,  Womb, a home I touch.

Grief settles into a ceramic bowl,

soft and round,

Womb, a home I touch.

My whole life I've run,  from black clouds, preacher's tears,  poor grammar, turkey calls,  Football, gangs, catcalls,  Eye patches and prosthetics,  The long loneliness of being everyone's friend.  From me...to him, tattooed and tall enough to block the rain.

My whole life I've run,

from black clouds, preacher's tears,

poor grammar, turkey calls,

Football, gangs, catcalls,

Eye patches and prosthetics,

The long loneliness of being everyone's friend.

From me...to him, tattooed and tall enough to block the rain.

Survivor of ice-falls and fractured promises,  given and swallowed.

Survivor of ice-falls and fractured promises,

given and swallowed.

I ran from Arkansas, Indiana, California.  Snow, wind, blanched hills.  Histories dwindling in lockets.

I ran from Arkansas, Indiana, California.

Snow, wind, blanched hills.

Histories dwindling in lockets.

To the girl I was then,  all wounds wrapped in scriptures,  To the woman I am now,  Breathing to break seams.

To the girl I was then,

all wounds wrapped in scriptures,

To the woman I am now,

Breathing to break seams.

This is who I am, a wilderness.  When doubt falls away, a wildfire.

This is who I am, a wilderness.

When doubt falls away, a wildfire.

Permission from center.  Calm. Unhurried.

Permission from center.

Calm. Unhurried.

Salt of the ocean air.  I swallow.  Home is hearing my own voice.

Salt of the ocean air.

I swallow.

Home is hearing my own voice.