Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Busy Doing Nothing

(To set the scene: Making a nest up high and settling in. Tucking more feathers around, we're not giving up on this baby. Not to the coldest winter. Safe now.)

Decide to go out into the world, cast off from the shore and see where the winds carry your sails. They say there's an opportunity out there for all of us, we just need to keep our nets well maintained.

Trading liquid gold. Honey, so sweet for the soul. Tempestuous without the old Latin to pain the conscious thought. We were left ingrained with Radix Malorum est Cupiditas. So we make promises to conduct different kinds of lives.

With you we are lost then found.

Should we be so lucky to be a cloth, drying on a line. Taken in when we're ready and used when useful. Rarely blowing away in the wind. However, should this occur chances would suggest another may make use of you. Though kindness is only optional and varies widely.

Hundreds together at once, in dingy yellowing lights. Damaging your head, in time with the morning after. Falling asleep, even when what is taking place all around is so very important, so much of all the time.

You made an 'apple for a thought' tree. You wanted it decorated. But there's no beautiful minds left when they're riddled with heavy thoughts. Treading water constantly, because drowning would mean everything was easy. Healthy bones, but not in mind. That's what thoughts you were after, after all. Proving mental just for awareness. Contested issues.

(Ending the scene: From ground, the wall is steep and perilous. A warning sign that this isn't the way to go. A sheer face that is unforgiving. Just like you were. I'm all patchwork and moving forward now, trying at least. But you've still left deep cracks in the photo frame, right over where the smile used to beam. Years gone from one conversation to the next, that's how the control sets in. This is all in denial of course, nothing could possibly be your fault. Sometimes.)

But dearest love, this is so murky and ill.
There is warmth in body and love in heart. Love in all you see. These streets are so adventurous, a world waiting out there. Beaches for our footprints and rocks for scrambling hands. Trees for climbing, caves for secrets and wishes. Hands for holding. Sunsets for the idea of forever, or until the sun refuses to one day rise from night's slumber. This is a beginning, I promise. One day it'll be learnt that we can stain something beautiful in beginning, middle and end. It may have taken awhile to reach here, but the focus is that it starts now. Honey light bathing all of us in each golden tomorrow.