"some bright nowhere
of broad fields and sunlight
that was my idea of heaven
one long afternoon"
“Night’s Thousand Shadows,” Christian Winman
Make yourself out of pieces
that don’t always fit
because not all puzzles
need to be finished.
Let yourself be good days
and bad days.
Days made out of
blanket forts and
Sundays and
some bright nowhere.
You don’t need
to ask for forgiveness
like individuality is a sin
promising God
that next time
you’ll get it right.
As if right is unwavering
and wrong can’t be fixed.
Life can just be made
of broad fields and sunlight.
Don’t grow old
as if age is
something important.
No one knows what way to grow
because up isn’t always best.
You can live in the sun
without reaching for light
Sometimes you can sleep
in the shadows of the grass.
That was my idea of heaven.
Don’t hide
behind a chorus
of the things you meant to do
like harmonized regret
pressed against the hope
that living
is following a formula.
Living can be
something simple, just
one long afternoon.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC
"some bright nowhere
of broad fields and sunlight
that was my idea of heaven
one long afternoon"
“Night’s Thousand Shadows,” Christian Winman
Make yourself out of pieces
that don’t always fit
because not all puzzles
need to be finished.
Let yourself be good days
and bad days.
Days made out of
blanket forts and
Sundays and
some bright nowhere.
You don’t need
to ask for forgiveness
like individuality is a sin
promising God
that next time
you’ll get it right.
As if right is unwavering
and wrong can’t be fixed.
Life can just be made
of broad fields and sunlight.
Don’t grow old
as if age is
something important.
No one knows what way to grow
because up isn’t always best.
You can live in the sun
without reaching for light
Sometimes you can sleep
in the shadows of the grass.
That was my idea of heaven.
Don’t hide
behind a chorus
of the things you meant to do
like harmonized regret
pressed against the hope
that living
is following a formula.
Living can be
something simple, just
one long afternoon.
