I live my life through the words I write
A wave crashes into the sand,
the sand unmarked and smooth
with no footprint left of human or animal,
smooth.
A wave crashes into the sand,
obliterating any remnant peace or calm
once there,
leaving rough, disturbed rocks
strewn about haphazardly
as the water rescinds back into the ocean.
A wave crashes into the sand
like a monster rears his head,
with destruction looming
even while he waits, patiently,
to attack.
I saw it coming,
knew what was about to happen.
Watching the scenes unfold
powerlessly,
of meant to be,
though I knew not the reasoning.
Understand, to not understand.
Sometimes, you have no control,
and what will be, will be.
The longer I stay,
the brighter the room becomes,
light natural and free
illuminates,
until everything feels different.
Time has passed, and brought change.
The longer I stay,
the more change I witness,
and appreciate.
Grant myself permission
to sit, just sit
here, with a glass of wine
and blanket wrapped around my shoulders,
eyes fixed, but unfocused
on the flickering candle
there, on the coffee table.
Sit. Just sit,
and do nothing else.
People say all the right things,
make the opportune gestures,
and be everything we want them to be,
ourselves included.
Perfection is attainable,
if we can meet the right person
where everything will fall into place.
That’s the trouble,
and addicting allure,
of daydreaming.
Sometimes
all it takes,
is listening to
and empathizing with others
to realize,
no matter how real
my pain and struggles may seem,
my mind often gets the better of me
and turns mole hills
into mountains.
We can see
hundreds of different sunsets
all in one night,
a kaleidoscope of colors,
where to look away even for a minute
and look back again,
decorates our eyes with a brand new view,
and we wonder,
at how fast change happens.
We can see this,
marvel at and treasure
our lives, and how fast change happens,
with this same sense of wonder
if we choose.
I can see through you,
trying to disguise yourself
and using other bodies as vessels
just to get to me
as I try to push you away.
I admire your persistence though.
I would probably do the same thing
myself.
My face often gives it away;
how I’m really feeling
without a need for accompanying words.
Lately,
it tells of inner turmoil,
expectations too high for me to reach
and overflowing from my plate,
excessive concern and worry
and wishing that things were different,
that I was different.
Raised, reddened bumps
with under-eye shadows
and a new crease or two I do not recall before;
they really tell the story.
Sunshine still penetrates
through the clouds, soft and dense,
though the sun remains hidden from sight.
Sometimes
you don’t have to see it
to believe it.
Dawning Words 