An old friend with a greying beard.
His eyes gaze over his spectacles
at the watch too big for his aging wrists.
Always knowing when and where
but still waiting with a clever air of unknowing.

Would it be simpler to be frozen? Forever in a state of solidarity.

Like a painting, finding rest on the comfort of a canvas, blanketed by the colors of the universe.

Or eternally hanging in the sky, twinkling among brethren.

Perhaps a colder version of frozen, like a piece of Alps gazing over the world. Never needing to shiver.

Worries would subsist with the movements of life. I suppose it would be simpler.

But what would be the fun in that?

There will be times when the storms in the ocean seem to swell;
When the skies above darken and the whispers start to yell
When you feel like the only soul left in this world,
And the corner is refuge to your weakened body curled

I'll tell you now, sweet child of the early and free years,
Those rosy cheeks of yours will become home to many tears.
And the sad times will seem too big for your little eyes.
But whenever you feel lost, just look to the skies.

Broken hearts will come and go like the seasons
And troubles will come on occasion, lacking reasons.
But we come from a long line of strong  hearts,
And these bad times and sad times are all beautiful parts

Of the astounding and wonderful life you've yet to live.
So don't cry now, but think of what you have now to give
In a world that sometimes seems a little dark and a little grim,
Fill it will love, and hope: happiness stuffed to the brim.

So little girl of the past:
This world is so vast,
And filled with little time
So please, remember this rhyme
And wipe your tears little child
And I'll look back on this day, as one when you smiled.

Love Always,
Meghan

Horrible feeling
Hanging on the stale air
flowing through the receiver

Painful
Aching
Stomach

Unknown answers
Like waiting for the pop
Of a pastry rolls can
Or the opening of a college letter

The anxiety of the unknown
Not an agreeable feeling
Not dandy, or fine, or agreeable

As you wait for their words
To follow the preparations
They’ve given you
For a hard blow to the heart
Painful anticipation
Of the hurtful, ending words
They’re about to whisper

Tell yourself to be brave,
To be strong
But with the pain comes temptation
To hang up
Prevent the words
That emanate from their end of the phone
Dreary, dismal, deadly anticipation
Of the words you already know

Wake up.
Slowly move from the position of dreams to reality.
Feet
       on
           floor.
Breathe.

Facing the tangible
takes strength
leave the uspeakable beauty
that need no words

Open your mouth to counter
the sounds of the world
awake.

Awaken.