And the day starts, dressed in light. Singing bird, loud yawning,empty bellies. And my hand is cold from holding the ghost of you. 6:00 am, a day full of promise,trying to comfort my aching soul. Drowning in your memories. 6:00 am,I miss you and wish you are home.
Life, not a fairy tale anymore. A rollercoaster of pain and joy, need and want. Tall, menacing walls and the thoughts so wild, burning with doubt. For the eyes know the beauty of the moon as they gaze upon the stars, looking for ways to break down the cold walls.
Endless walks,heavy panting, caving to the pressure, Dear breather where are you? I keep on calling,trapped in the fog of tiredness, running after fading time. But the chores make me angry, the bills break my spirit and I lose track of you. Oh sweet, soothing breather, hear when I call.
Shhhh,,young soul, listen to your heartbeat. Close your eyes and dare dream, fly over the dry bones and wipe your tears. For the tea tastes better with a smile, for there is hope in the new world, flying with broken wings. Sometimes we can only smile and laugh, dance in jubilation. Sometimes we glow with the blue sky.
The ticking of the clock fade in my mind
I am okay, I tell my numb self
Fading into emptiness that no one knows
Laughing and talking to avoid questions
Dancing to keep the thoughts warm
For I am drunk on the cold numbness
that keep my heart safe.
I wish I can break free of this yoke, float in the smiley wind of freedom. For the feet are bruised by the hot coal of fear. Tired eyes, burning sun, where is the cooling breeze of comfort? I breathe, I wish for the spirit to dance in the glory of peace.
Memories, sweet memories of two happy kids running chasing after the stream of clear water looking for a nest of the blue bird. Happy naughty kids, laughing with the wind.
Now I fight back painful tears, wondering how I lost you in the jungle of the crazy world, for I hear the echo of your cries, heart breaking, pretty face, wrinkled by sadness.
Longing to comfort, heal the wounded spirit, but you surround your heart with tall slippery walls, so I sit with a pen and a paper longing for the days when we were happy kids, dancing with the wind.