What if we didn’t edit but left everything the way in which we were blessed with it, the highlights disputably the highs in light, the shadows lovingly interweaved, the bridges sometimes camouflaged or only revealed to the one meant to see; what if the walk is intentionally neverending with boardwalks to deter us from fully exploring the depths of the offerings, the possibilities of meeting the ones we are meant to and the ones by chance, and what if those are unfathomably unravelable in free will, fate, and happen- stance…?
Later, soon, tomorrow… always risky putting off what the heart longs to sing, to say… our lights, eternal, but earthtime measured in sand and dust and strings Atropos cuts, footprints tide-washed away. So let’s stop and sit awhile, my friend. How have you been? Kettle whistles, Columbian grounds, deep sofa, phones down. Let’s wrap ourselves in the comfort of the softest colors of love, quilting our story.
The pull of the day, of the years, of everyone’s needs leaves shadows and cavities from ebb’s never-ending taking, but the sun’s reflection warms me in oranges, and the glow stays. The light one way or another will illuminate, independent of ever reaching that haunted, hollowed space.
Moments drip drop, first molecules floating to fall, and when the basin is filled, our time is up.
Let me taste each one individually upon my upturned mouth.
May I spend the least amount in flood or drought, paned, sheltered or drowned.
Let me feel it all though; to offer an umbrella or call me inside is to deny me each elixir dose to my soul’s life.
Moments shared with others, even fleeting in passing, make up the ocean of emotion that fills and propels me most deeply.
When the last sun sets, I know I cannot take any drops with even though they became a part of my very composition, but heaven is in the clouds for a reason, and I believe from these drops within, another birthing will begin…