The days grow longer My mind in pieces I'm scattered out of place Waiting for the wind The rush filled with passion Sweeping me away Placing me in another pattern
Why can't we go through life as if we were on a playground? Choosing how high we climb how fast we swing with only our two feet to slow us down, our two hands that let go As much as we'd like to believe we have control who's to say we do?
Either way we can continue to keep trying to live the life we want, the way we want Maybe tomorrow we'll choose to swing a little faster, a little higher or climb up past the point we left off the day before Or we'll take a seat in the dirt
We eventually out grow the challenge, the conqeust the playground once presented Now some of us choose to face a life of fast cars and skyscrapers to make us feel like we're flying through the air or as though we're on top of the world
That's something we all can control If you ever find yourself in such a place it's time for you to head back to the playground Start over And this time don't fall off of life's monkey bars and hit your head
“People who are good with words are forever searching for the right way to express themselves, and that’s why they have no clarity.”-Laura Marling
Drops of water begin to fall. My shirt, a fresh canvas, displays its random patter. I see a woman begin to run & I think, but the rain has only begun. How silly, of all the things we could run from, she chooses to run from rain. I grin and giggle..
A rush of adrenaline washes over me & it begins to pour. I'm content in the rain. Droplets disappear into the jade slivers left & right while the road ahead brings a more lively sight. A shiver passes through my body; the natural reaction awakens me.
I watch each drop hit & divide, bouncing off the asphalt lake; the rain comes alive."Can you see the fairies dancing?" my mother would ask. The divided drops become one once more to join hands, and spin 'round & 'round. Hundreds thousands of fairies dance
upon the black, cool earth as far as my eye can see. I smile knowing they still come to life for me. To treasure these simple moments...turns the days long and sweet. Soaked to the bone, but my spirit is light...I'm only left wishing the woman who ran
away could share in such delight.
"there was such a nice inspiring man in Starbucks today. He was a stylish professorly black gentleman in a
tweed jacket and big bow tie. We were at the fixin counter at the same time and I noticed he cleaned down the entire counter after he fixed
his coffee - including the mess I made. When I held the door for him he said "thank you very much!" and "thank you very much again!"
Who does that? We should all try and be more like the bow tie man. The world would be a much better place."
I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough, To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough, To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing
flesh is enough, To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment—what is this, then? I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea.-Walt Whitman
;)
