All i wanted was to hold your hand, walking through fields of daisies as we smelled them for the first time. As we touched the warmth of the sun for the first time, as we heard the singing of the birds and the buzz of the bees and tasted the summer evening air for the first time.
Together we would build cities without walls, we would travel around the world spreading seeds of wildflowers, hoping that they would spring up and cover the black earth which so often permeated even our own lives. We would find beauty in imperfection, and we would breathe it in day after day until we finally began to truly grasp it.
The world would be that one great big jigsaw puzzle that we loved sitting around, under lamplight in an attic, and putting together, piece by piece, even though we knew it would never be complete.
We would spend the days sitting together under the maple tree, placing band-aids and tears on each others' wounds as they appeared on our flesh, nursing them until they healed. Then we would kiss the scars.
but you push me away, and i am broken, even though i convinced myself i don't need you.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Rain
One may conjure up all the things that rain is supposed to be, feelings it's supposed to invoke or create.
All i know is that, after listening to an incredible life story, I chose to walk back alone, singing songs of a guilty random order. I stood on the porch to the staff building, gazing off across the field as rain slanted towards me. All beyond my little world was obscured in darkness, invaded only by the light glancing off the few pioneer drops which dared to cross the concrete plane of the porch roof.
I wanted desperately to feel. Some things I did not feel. Some I did. Some swam just out of reach, hidden like a shower-misted mirror. Others seemed to fight into focus of their own accord, surfacing to take a breath from their long, underwater slumber. This breath was life.
I heard stories in the rain. People. Lives. Loneliness can not even exist in the presence of millions of transparent friends. My yellow bird soared into the June sky, leaving a glittering trail in its wake.
I feel you. I miss you. I need what you stand for.
All i know is that, after listening to an incredible life story, I chose to walk back alone, singing songs of a guilty random order. I stood on the porch to the staff building, gazing off across the field as rain slanted towards me. All beyond my little world was obscured in darkness, invaded only by the light glancing off the few pioneer drops which dared to cross the concrete plane of the porch roof.
I wanted desperately to feel. Some things I did not feel. Some I did. Some swam just out of reach, hidden like a shower-misted mirror. Others seemed to fight into focus of their own accord, surfacing to take a breath from their long, underwater slumber. This breath was life.
I heard stories in the rain. People. Lives. Loneliness can not even exist in the presence of millions of transparent friends. My yellow bird soared into the June sky, leaving a glittering trail in its wake.
I feel you. I miss you. I need what you stand for.
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