|
|
I still find myself staring at the wind and waiting to see it drip snow across the land. To see a slate gray sky drop sparkling dots and flakes, the child in me awakes, to go playing in the snow.
But I know, it's not to be. For sadly, in Florida I be. And here in the land of the broad live oak and the swaying palm tree, the snow cannot penetrate the boundaries of a sky soaked with the sea.
I find myself staring into the sun over waters tinged orange and red. The beach before me is crystal white all sunsprays and light, water playing on the land.
But I know, there's no snow. To the north I long to go. And in this place where the sun beams grow with energy and magic and warming glow I am destined to stay a while longer, I know.
For every moment and place there's a smile and a tear, a heart warmed place and a dull, nagging fear. My heart screams fo motion, mobility, flight. Yet I find myself inevitiably stuck in the might, of the sand and surf which I've loved always, and the wintery home where I've spent so few days.
Cruel is the moon that lights both worlds; Casting pale shadows through draperies unfurled, deceiving both wanders and homesteader's curls.
And somewhere it's Christmas, after 349 days. And time, for a moment, becomes a pure crystal glaze. Preseving for once the difficult plight, of one soul yearning to break free, to take flight. And in this there is but one truth to be hold, as you wish on a star:
No matter where you go, there you are.
Happy Holidays Everyone. May this be a time of fun, family, love, joy, rememberance and a celebration of the many mysteries of life. Stay safe and I'll see you on the other side.
D'Artagnon
It's not the wolf you see you should fear, but all the ones he howls with. Don't be afraid of the song, but don't piss off the choir.
|
] 
A Place of Safety
Search
Help
Register
Login
Home
Waxing poetical, and all that good junk. 
