Sunday, March 21, 2010


Are they aware?

Can you convey what you've gone through to the clambering world, a world whose image of perfection is that of beautiful shells?

A shell, empty, devoid of life

Do they care that you have battled demons?

Do they know that behind your eyes you are observing, aware?

Aware of the fragrances, lilacs and pine,

aware of the birds that take flight as you walk.

The mourning dove sighs, alone in the farthest branches of the sturdy pine, calling out a song, hoping that it will reach another heart.

Her heart is touched, it responds to that sound...

The sound of one mourning for another to understand, that you are a rock in the river as the water rushes past, that you stay holding your place against the tide, that the wind is your friend because it holds you as you walk.

and you walk towards eternity...