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December 24, 2009
It was a very good year
What a season, for believers and what a bore for those who think they know
more. One should envy ignorance. one should envy those quiet moments that
flee in day dreams. And yet we strive to know to learn, yet more and more. One
should be able to stop at a point where the excitement of discovery bleeds to
obligations of understanding and cruelty of knowledge that soothes and cuts
the same.
I bring you a flower to find a certain joy in your eyes and cherish your disarming
smile. And yet you can only find fault as you look closer and see the color, not red,
not yellow, not white. And the assumptions of my intentions in choosing THAT color,
and why a single why not a dozen. Questions pop in your head and the joy is lost
as I stand wondering....... thinking to myself what happened to the joy which led
to that disarming smile
She asked for a window. I took her papers, I took her a pen , a new pen. she
took the pen , stock the paper on the wall and drew a window. She thanked
me for the pen and the paper , I said I was grateful for the window and then
we sat together held hands and watched the people passing by.
Let me remind you if I may. I am of rain, wondering in the early mist that settles
in the woods far away. I was bred on mountain air and open spaces, grown
of soil but vagabond like wind. I don't stay too long yet I will stay inside you
forever . And you should know I am fragile the way the sun is on its last ray
at sunset and the day is at midnight.I flee when you are not watching and I come
back when you sleep and what brings me back every time is the promise of
your smile and memory of your kiss.
Remember I am the accumulation of my years, I am the collection of my times,
There is a two years old boy still running in my head and the scent of her breath
when I kissed her at Twelve still takes me away. I remember the first time I
touched her at Fifteen like it was yesterday and I hear what my father
whispered in my ear at Seventeen, the day I went away. the sweet smile
and glee in her eyes the first time we met, the woman I loved and met at
Twenty Seven. The cry of my son at his first breath and the tears of knowing
the love that takes over and overwhelms at thirty five. And four years later
at Thirty nine my daughter made me fall in love again on her birth. Yes I died a
little at Forty nine when he died sudden and stood closer to the ones I love.
Yes I am all here, a bit weathered but all here..........
Posted by Idinraha at December 24, 2009 04:15 PM