In Progress

Often I save email drafts with snippets of poetry, story bits, or thoughts. I went through and pulled out a few yet unfinished pieces. Perhaps they will be finished in 2014.

 --

Summer days are whimsy
A babbling spring, clear and sweet
yet also solid as the roots of some great tree
Things to hold to, things to float away on



There are perhaps two reasons why people stand on a ledge: one is to dare to fall - to taste the danger of tempting fate and live to laugh at it - and the other is to decide to fall.


I am convinced that even if you can't personally do anything about a problem, just learning and knowing about it and caring enough to share that knowledge can do a great deal.


I decided, in a general sense, to not be afraid. Fears, however, rebel against being tamed, so when I am, when my heartbeat rises and my pupils dilate, I grapple at prayer like a falling person grabs at a rope, with a kind of desperation which finally comes to sweet relief, and a kind of shaken assurance that grows stronger again with time. Stronger with time. 


I have a little bird who lives in my heart
I love the beat beat of her wings
She doesn't need to be heard, she's a creature apart
For even when she's sad she sings


(possible story bit)
Take the money. Give it away gently, as you'd give away a parting kiss to someone you'll see soon but not soon enough. Hands touching, brushing. A look that is steady and says that this is personal, but that you are strong enough. You are strong and in control and okay.


(possible story bit)
I frightens me at times, the ferociousness of this love. I cling to him tightly, and when I can't touch him, I hold onto him with my eyes or thoughts, always making sure of where he is and that's he's okay. I'm afraid to admit how afraid I am of ever loosing him, as though this love is a dream I will awake from, consequently awakening into a nightmare of grief. It's more than I can stand to think of for long. The thought terrifies me. I thought I was braver than this. Who would have thought that the best thing in my life was the thing that brings me to my knees with the sheer vastness of what I stand to lose. 


The old piano at home
is quite out of tune
We don't have the funds to fix it anytime soon
But still we will play
Yes we'll find a way
To always make sure that the melody stays

You'll play a song
I'll sing a long
a plink and a plunk and a tune can't go wrong
Sing la la la la la la la la la la