Gemotions

The list, discovered in her grandmother's sewing box, was a treasure map to a forgotten self. "Write a poem." Her grandmother had always been a poet, a dreamer. Her own heart had felt dormant for so long.

A wave of energy surged through her, a tingling that chased away the weariness she’d carried. She sat at her grandmother's old desk, a pen in hand, and began to write.

Words flowed, unbidden, like a spring bubbling to the surface. She wrote of the wind, of the sun, of the simple joy of being alive. She felt a lightness in her chest, a joy she thought she had lost forever.