Here’s is day 1 of the 360 Days of Symbols. The first symbol is an egg.
This egg will only open with the crack of fire. Inside is a human head. The head does not look like a real head, but rather something else. Exaggerated. When it speaks it speaks in the language of mirrors.
This other egg, here, this will only open with the whisper of waterwaves. Inside is the stars and moon and suns and solar systems and the dreams of unwoken universes, all wound up like a snailshell and tucked inside.
This egg, right next to the others, yet centersolid. Notice how the light reflects on it, moves through it stained glass motions. This egg holds a key, and can only be opened by a kiss from a childless moon.
The egg on the floor, the one that keeps trying to roll away. The only egg that looks like a grocery store egg. Notice the keyhole? Open each egg, find the last key, now use it here. Catch the egg in a cage, bird cage, maybe, wickercage. The kind that hangs in old lady attics. Catch it. Key it. And when it opens, wait. Wait for the tornadoes to come and take you back home again.