You don't understand You're trapped, In the illusions of this world Addictions, power and surmounting wealth hold you in its grip Can I see beyond the clouds to the divine heart of all things feel the harp playing a tune of melancholy, watch the children's laughter in the shadows of the sun We walk in mirror reflections listening to the heartstrings strummed in pain, holding on to nothing that is everything, to gain in this world we create
He Says, "You mean, all I have to do is keep my heart open to you, even if all I can say is "I don't know what to say but I love you and I am going to stay here and try to respond...and we will turn into the lovers you find in storybooks?"
I give him a huge million dollar smile. "You got it sweetheart," I say, "just be there for me; that IS the story – the whole story of Us."
I sat down to write something but nothing seemed to come to mind. The words evaded the space in my mind, I like to think...is full to the brim with ideas galore and yet, today it seemed all the clouds I saw, the purple sky or the soft feel of a tender balmy breeze brushing my cheeks as I sat in my favourite place...had done nothing, to topple that stack of over piled words on to my paper... Oh! no, that's not entirely right, as I love to write on notepads, in books, journals (oh how I love to collect these) and even on scraps of crumpled papers I randomly pick up...but if the truth be told, (as it always should be and almost always isn't) I need words to fall on my screen, after I have punched them in, my fingers dancing on the keys of my laptop. The feel of typing has now come to be so familiar to me, I almost feel like I was born with a keypad in my hands...sounds silly??? I know and I agree totally! But, what is it that one must say that runs parallel to the saying, "You must have been born with a pen in your hand." That being said I am simply quantifying a metaphor of my own making. Can I be accused of murdering the queens language? Maybe! Then again maybe not, considering the many new and somewhat weird words people come up with days, not to mention all the flang-slang and techno jargon kids, high on hip gadgets use or the text lingo that recreated a new form of morsecode, now used in our chat box and the short cuts to face book posting that include a lot of three letter and four letter words that are not really words at all and luckily cannot be confused with love or f..k. So, no I think I am safe on this side of the fence. Yet, all I need tonight is a few good lines. The air-conditioner is blowing freezing, yet pretty nice fresh air on me, I am shivering slightly in my 100% cotton t-shirt dress and the lights are down low, with soft music playing on my old stereo. Then I realise, that it is time to close my eyes...dream the dreams of yesterdays, thoughts of hope for tomorrows' and excited desires of my passions, wrought in my souls yearning plea. This flipside will have to wait! My soft white pillows are calling me...and there's really nothing quite as perfect, as your head sinking onto your cool soft pillow about to ride the stallions of the night, now is there.
Sometimes I sit and wonder about life. Like a leaf drifting on a cool crisp breeze, wind in my sails, I fly over tree tops basking in the sun of a new morn, then again there I am just managing to stay adrift in a hailstorm, that blurs my vision of moments spent and obscured my view of sunrises yet to see...taking me with it in a gust of wind so strong that my veins hold tight, in hope of not falling and yet, as fear grips me with the uncertainty on the flow...I know in this strange an unforeseen moment - I have to be right.
I could not have read the signs, anything but correctly.
These thoughts have crossed my mind and consumed me before and time and time again, I have been want for no reason. Why then must I tally with unspoken words, or wonder about unsure thoughts...why cant I be happy in the moment?
That I may be that leaf...will I float or will I fly...can I fall, must I try...is this real or make-believe? Did I dream it all up in my sleep?
Can the sun shine along with the rain...are leaves meant to feel the love in a sweet sugar rain?