Dust

I'm tired and washed. Washed for the first time in a week. My clothes and bedding lie close by, a pile on the floor, encrusted in dust. I'm not free of it yet. I feel like i've shed a skin over the last week, changes and transformations, surprises at how much i've grown, of how far i've still got to go. As the dust settles, i wonder if this is a year of consolidation, of closing lingering loose ends, of seeding a the new path that i've been dreaming of for so long. Gestation, foundations.