Yes, there's a story here. It's not over, so I can't really tell it. The following poem-ish thing was written in the moment...but the moment changes...and I have no idea what it will be in an hour, or tomorrow, or next week. When it's all played out, maybe I'll tell you about it. But not until then, because I don't want to waste words.
~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, love...
I was in a creative place,
A hopeful place
Looking to a day not too distant
When I would dare to spread my wings
Throw myself from the cliff
And soar
I was in that dreamy
Half-awake
Half-asleep place
Where I believed I could
And wanted to
Succeed
Floating, I came
And spoke of maybe, and time,
And effort
Of looking at tomorrow a little differently
And oh, you couldn't know
How thoroughly you deflated me
With bitter words
How well you broke the nascent joy
Into tiny pieces
Dusty particles of
I can't do it
It won't do any good
Your hammer
Was someone else's words
Deeds
But you swung unconsciously well
So that one misbehaves,
Is selfish, careless
Cruel
And I suffer
Broken wings
Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!
"...besides love, independence of thought is the greatest gift an adult can give a child." - Bryce Courtenay, The Power of One
For old quotes, look here.
For old quotes, look here.
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4 comments:
Dear Kyddryn, lots of nourishing heart's blood to carry healing to your broken wings.
Thanks, hun...
If I can't fly, I'll walk.
You CAN do it dear, no doubt about it- and the sooner you do, the less power those careless words will have. Stoke your fires, and burn through your imaginary limitations.
Kit, have I mentioned lately what a good friend you are? No?? What the hell is wrong with me???
Thanks, love.
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