2004-04-04
The contemplative soul
I woke up today to another warm spring morning--the sound of leaves resonating with the wind, the pollen floating in the air and getting stuck on the car roofs...
I'm reminded of so many years back, and my mind draws the memories and the idea of the past is like an entity and you can't tell whether it is too far back, or to just shrug and say it wasn't too long ago.
That feeling of peace that wraps around me and calms my soul like the warm candlelight wraps around the dark shadows in a crevice. It is only in my sleep that my heart gives a regular pulse, and I forget life's complexities.
I want to say something that will alter my perception on life and ultimately make things better, have everything run more smoothly...but I can't. I still cannot, with all the eloquence that words have to offer, express this ever-changing mood of mine. The wine that gets better with age, suiting the pallat of the one who enjoys...my writing tends to change in such a manner.
Frantically, I try to make everything organized and to make sense of everything--that dry sense of being that once gave me imponderable satisfaction, that manageable day that gave me so much pleasure. Hiding myself for three years was about as much as I could do before I finally had to face reality. Now, in this whirlwind and aware of everything--every step, every rose petal that undulates with the wind, every blink--I notice, and I seek meaning within all of those things.
My quixotic prince, if only you knew how alive you make me feel...