life, the world,
the human experience--
they can be dark,
cruel, and bewildering,
creating a
choking cloud of
chagrin around me.
but there are moments,
little glimpses of beauty,
of untainted perfection
in the vast array of living,
breathing creatures and
objects i surround myself with;
i string these moments
together in my mind, shimmering
drops of dew in the
intricate web of a sad,
reminiscent spider.
shivering with cold on the
side of a dark, dry mountain;
the air was frigid, so we
huddled together, leaning
on the side of the car,
necks craned upward at the
stunning display of stars
blanketing the sky above us.
my glasses made it nearly
impossible to see, stuck in the
rain walking home from class.
we took off our shoes and socks
and we ran through the grass,
sharp and slippery and
refreshing; we splashed
our way through the biggest,
most tantalizing puddles we
could find, and then collapsed
in your apartment, shivering,
out of breath, shoulders aching,
but laughing.
it was a dark, stormy sort of
night, and the summer air was
uncharacteristically cool; the
rain pelted my front lawn, the
street, and the rain was pulling
leaves off trees.
my eyes slid shut, tired, and i was
still smoking a cigarette, and i felt
the thunder resonate within
my body, and deep purple flashes
behind my eyelids,
and i was restored.
a vast pen of sheep was on one
sideof the dirt road, and an
empty meadow on the other.
we stood, again, on the
car as the bright orange orb
in front of us slowly crept down,
down, down, casting his royal
shadow over the twilight sky in
fluorescent shades of pink and
purple and blue and red and orange.
the air was thick and sticky,
mid-july in pennsylvania,
but i could only think of the
masterpieve before me.
once we sat in one of those veins
on the side of a mountain,
the ones important men use to run
power lines; we stared into the expanse
of valley in front of us, clear, refreshing
air after a quick, soft shower of dainty
raindrops and a cool breeze carrying
our smoke and noise through
the rock, the trees, the roads, the
few houses and manmade structures.
the first day we knew each other,
walking for ages down the old train
tracks, talking about anything that
seemed relevant, engulfed in an
autumn rainbow.
spending summer nights with the
people who entertain me, the people
who i love; nights spent with hand
crafted, often unconventional snacks
and some form of alcohol to share.
cooler evenings with those same people,
but with a crackling fire between all of
us, knit caps, and flannel shirts.
deep bonds, the ones i have had in
the many different shells of my life,
and the ones that still now hold strong;
the times when a gesture or a
spoken word brings a lump into my
throat, burning with curious emotion.
the bonds that sometimes fray or
collect dust, but still resurface with
suprising tenacity when tested.
when the present becomes
too dark, too ugly, i pick up one
of these images, these slices of memories
when, for just a few minutes, all worry and
negative things are completely
and utterly forgotten, and everything--
my life, my world, my existence--was
pure and infinite; i take a slice of happiness,
i hold it in my two hands,
and i remind myself that in order to
get to one of these moments, i have to
wander through the muck for just a
little longer, just a little farther.
