Waterfall.
Life's a messy thing.
From birth to death to the little bits in between,
stacked up neatly as the Legos you played with when you were young.
But those pretty little bricks never were.
They were always scattered in a halo around your small knees,
like pieces of broken glass and memories.
Life is no straight line, no paved road.
You're given the basic floor plan for intangible dreams
then you are out into the crashing, beautiful disaster,
falling as you fly,
breathing in the mist as it chokes you.
We are glowing stars and specks of dust and special snowflakes.
Our burning light will warm you
if you take the time to brush away the cobwebs.
But if you hold us too close we will melt away,
leaving behind only water in the form the tears run that stain your face.
Don't cry, my love, for if your tears grow too deep
the waves of sorrow will sorrow you.
Though we may be falling as fly,
guided by shards of iridescent memories and a hopeful melody ,
all things must come to an end.
Do not be afraid to fall my child,
for I am at the bottom of the waterfall,
waiting to catch you in my arms once more.