Darkness. A glimmer of light.
Too far to reach. Days of walking.
My feet have grown so tired. I cannot continue.
Laying in the dark.
Your face glows in my mind.
Your smile. Warm.
I.
Grow. Like a seed in the sun.
I reach for you. But, you are not there, but in essence.
Tell me that essence is enough. Enough to get me out.
Whisper something to me,
anything to let me know that the night will pass.
To ease my hardened heart of the fear of disappointment.
Back again. In the dark. Oh familiar oasis of the lost.
My spirit losing every drop of life.
But your voice. Echoing. Guiding me.
"Closer."
I must continue.
Struggle. And pain. But the face never left me.
My heart beat grows louder, like rolling thunder.
In a full sprint I cant feel my legs under me.
Arms out to the side I exhale.
With my eyes closed, I glide through the darkness without fear, without hesitance.
Following your voice. "Closer."
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Day Six
We all walked out in a single file.
The lights shining through the windows, a fruitful new life.
Men with hard faces and soft hearts held their daughters hands.
The crash of the train leaving was like a fresh sigh of relief.
Weeks passed.
We made our homes.
Ran through the tall grass.
The sky so blue and clear.
Life.
Was still.
We loved, and lived.
Together. Flourishing and growing.
As we grow old the familiar scent of the train station,
sparks the memory of the sixth day.
The lights shining through the windows, a fruitful new life.
Men with hard faces and soft hearts held their daughters hands.
The crash of the train leaving was like a fresh sigh of relief.
Weeks passed.
We made our homes.
Ran through the tall grass.
The sky so blue and clear.
Life.
Was still.
We loved, and lived.
Together. Flourishing and growing.
As we grow old the familiar scent of the train station,
sparks the memory of the sixth day.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Physics
Love, like the resin
of a tree filled with blood,
hangs out its strange odor of the origin
of natural enchantment:
the sea goes to extremes
or the devoured night
breaks over your motherland:
your soul breaks inside you,
two bells of bone sound,
and nothing happens but the weight
of your body, empty once again.
-Pablo Neruda
of a tree filled with blood,
hangs out its strange odor of the origin
of natural enchantment:
the sea goes to extremes
or the devoured night
breaks over your motherland:
your soul breaks inside you,
two bells of bone sound,
and nothing happens but the weight
of your body, empty once again.
-Pablo Neruda
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