Take my hand and let me take you back to a time when
Time did not matter, when one second was replaceable with the next-
Easter Sunday, making mud pies in our little Purple dresses,
back to making junk into something fictional
And believing in everything make believe.
We climbed castles, discovered bigfoot, found our prince
All in a matter of seconds- and we never ran out of time.
Time- a matter of perception
Quick sand, sleep, death.
There are many things to slow down this barrier to living,
But nothing to make it go, to make it tangible.
If we were to place time on a scale it would measure into
A timeline of dinosaurs and hieroglyphics, of disasters and
The great discoveries of the ocean's depths- however, I am
Speaking of time as an emotional blip.
To measure time as we do our emotions takes away from
Our perception of that blip- of irretrievable time unaccounted for.
We must make time our foundation to understand it will always be there.
It is what you make of that time, how you allow that
Blip to affect you, that makes moments into concrete memories
Time freezes as I lie there running my fingers
Over your chest, playing connect the dots
With your freckles. I became accustomed
To your breathing, hoping your soul
Would give me a message via lapses in breath-
You are a beautiful canvas (I think while
Looking at your face), constructed of
Beautiful extensive eyes that make me feel warm while
They scan my profile.
hair that resembles a mountain
Top, and hands that are made for holding.
I know not the reason for your presence in
My life but if you are meant to go- so be it.
I will throw my paintbrush into the sky
And wish on the stars that the gods drop it
Into the hands of someone worth loving
We are all used books-
A little warn- our pages
Sometimes torn, or frayed
Around the edges. Coffee stains,
Lipstick stains, and other various
markings covering words the new
Keepers of these books will never
Get to read. Annotations fill the sides,
Streaky highlighter runs over
Quotes that resonated with the reader
Who came before the last. Tabs and
Folded corners call attention to
Metaphors, riddles- everything
That needs analyzation and
We are passed down and handed out
Until we find a home at last- Someone who
still wants to read, what has
Already been read, many times before.
I find myself changing as nature does- recklessly and suddenly without notice, and nature is what I come back to in order to heal.
Fires are often looked at as destructive forces,
And they surely can be, but they can also
Rejuvenate. Contrary to popular belief, fires most
Often leave a beautiful aftermath. Some examples
Being that certain plant seeds only germinate after
A fire, new growth is accessible to animals for food,
minerals are returned to the soil, and
Although many animals are stripped of their
Homes- this vacancy creates suitable areas for
New species to settle. Similar to how a fire
Cleanses the land it nearly destroys, a traumatic life
Experience allows an individual to undergo a necessary
Amount of growth and change. Whether what we take
From a situation leaves us aching or allows us to reflect,
We will always unknowingly benefit from the pain. I do
My best to keep this at the forefront of my memory when
Reminded of the baggage I carry. My healing will continue. and I will make a promise to myself that for every new fire that disseminates through/over my life, I will make amends with it
And allow for it to change me in the best way possible.
Lonely nights followed by even lonelier nights after seeing you for the first time in years-
I thought I finally knew what I wanted, and by similar ****** expressions, I thought you did too
But small talk turned to lectures and I found in you the person I used to love so dearly,
I found that the second half of my soul did not change too much- just hid in disguise while trying
To figure out himself
You said you were doing just fine, but by the way your eyes disengaged from mine and the exhaustion in your voice I knew better than to believe you. I always liked to think I knew you best. Those other empty basket cases you filled your life with were obvious fillers for the hollowed out space between your bones.
You knew what you deserved, but never had the courage to dive into deep waters- always scared of the creatures that could be hiding in the depths of your deepest rest.
Before time could tell I was throwing coins into fountains, blowing the petals
Off of dandelions, and hopelessly ripping the petals off of the flowers I made
My bed in. I continuously gave my worries to the wind, quite literally, and made
Peace with nature so that she in return would offer me the gift of friendship,
Oh how important it is to become one with the ground you walk on and
Realize I am neither above nor below it- equal to all being and creatures.
Knowing my steps impact the ground much more than my wishful thinking
Of nature ever will.
The magic of nature is simply that.
The wind carrying the leaves, creating a mosaic-
The puddles of rain water and mud creating illusions of
Sink holes and sand boxes.
Children diving into their hand crafted mud pies.
Creating something out of nothing since the beginning of time, mother nature.
Finding beauty in everything is harder than it looks-
Until you come across a something, or someone so absolutely stunning that
Your eyes are completely readjusted.
Rose colored lenses replace your contacts and now finding beauty comes
As easy as using your green thumb to plant life into every inanimate object.
But like all wishes made, you have to be careful with wording, or something
Awful could happen- or simply realizing all good things must come to an end,
Magic does not last forever. The rabbit in the hat eventually gets sick of coming
Out for pure entertainment, and there seems to be blood pouring from the
Rectangular box the magician cut in half.
Maybe it was the angle at which I was watching,
Or maybe we are comfortable with the idea of having to see to believe-
Faith never worked out for me, generally speaking it is a great concept,
But not something I could firmly grasp.
I could believe in the magic of it all
It was so easily displayed, illusions tossed around
Science, vaguely fabricating facts- using monstrous vocabulary to
Make us believe what we were reading
Maybe that's all love is.