If it is lost, it can be found

A woman must know when to stay and when to go, she knows when her time is up, when she is no longer wanted and she feels in her heart when a relationship is no longer good for her. A woman must know when a man is not the right one, even if it stings and feels like her heart is breaking in two. Better now than be disappointed in the future.

 

It is strange or one may even say interesting that just two years ago I fled out of a window and into the dark night with nothing but a backpack with a few of my favorite belongings and ran out on my fiancé. Never to turn around and look back. I was left feeling sorry for myself, like someone literally ran a car over my body and backed and crushed my heart to see what they hit the first time around. I was depressed, hurt, angry and feelings of betrayal ran through my veins. I have never been angry or depressed, it seems so strange to me both now and then, like a foreign word that I have never heard of. But it struck me, even though I didn’t understand its foreign name, I felt the pain. So, I needed something or someone to run through my veins.

 

I ran to Italy, to be healed and maybe with a little luck and new self admiration I could have a fling or two. Running now into the present, I did have a few really wonderful flings, one man for a few months debating a move to another city, another man which lasted several months, I fell in love but it wasn’t right. And lastly one fantastic man lasting a year that I was in love with, we lived together and I brought him back to my world in America. He said that he could live here, he wanted to be with me. So, we looked into immigration, visas and lawyers. It would be a long, expensive process to bring a non English speaking man into the USA. The only option would be to get married, and he doesn’t want to get married.  Here I am again, sitting in the same place literally and physically in which my heart was first broken in two and I decided to go to Italy. Now I am heart broken from another man, who is in Italy as I sit in my family house, I realize that we are living on two different planets and that our worlds will most likely never met again. He is my opposite, in which he will just sit and wait for an answer, maybe it may never come. He promises things that he does not know how he will accomplish them. Well, how will you do that? With no job or language skills? He doesn’t know, and I must make the decision to let him fly. But I must fly too. And do what is right for me; I know that I need someone with a little more guts, a little more ambition and a lot more adventure in their soul. I know he was a good man, but perhaps he is not the right man for me any longer, and that is okay. I know I will heal from a broken heart, because I have already done that once or twice. And this time it just doesn’t hurt as much as it did the first time. Is it better to have lost than to love at all? I knew in the beginning that this was not forever, but for right now.  And it is much better to give my heart and soul and lose it, then to never give it at all. You can always find what has been lost.

How will you ever know?

I was put on this planet to love, to give it a go.

I wake from a dream, a dream of another time another land. You were no longer mine, but another’s. Another place in time, I lost you. All that ever was. Searching my soul, looking deep into what it is that I desire. What it is that I need, searching for my own wondering heart what it is that I am looking for? I don’t want to walk down this road alone, but is it his hand that I want to hold, his hand that I need. The only person that knows is my soul, deep down I know what I must do, but not ready to do it. When can we let go and know how to fly alone. Not the girl who ever walks alone but unable to leave him. He sits by my side wondering where I stand. Wondering if I will ever fully be his, but I will never fully be anyone’s, born to fly but unable to nest. Where will the wind take me this time, it blows and I fly. But is there a reason to keep searching? Was it what I was looking for all along? Is it him that I am searching for, reaching out to, and how will I ever know?

Dream in Honey, Dream in Gold

It was all a dream

Restless from a dream, a ceiling fan hums a tune around us

A dream in vivid colors and a language flowing like honey,

Smooth and thick, the sweetness sticking to my heart,

Even though words aren’t needed,

Not knowing if it is you that is intoxicating my soul,

Or passion that burns and stirs within me from dreaming of a foreign land.

 

I dreamt you were next to me, in fields that outstretch the glistening earth,

Where olives, lemons and grapes grow wild and free just like the way I feel about you,

Tints of green and yellow paint the terrain and the grass sparkles from fresh dew,

It kisses my face and bare feet, walking alone my feet sink into the earth,

In a nude flowing dress that brushes the tips of my toes,

My golden tresses fall freely on my bronzed shoulders,

Touching the grape vines as I pass,

Not knowing where I am going, peace, gratitude and serenity fly next to me,

Feeling connected to the earth as I pick a ripe deep purple grape,

Tasting the sweet nectar from the fruit that is warm from the sun,

You meet me halfway; you put your hand in mine,

In comfortable silence we walk along together,

Admiring the natural beauty that encircles our world,

Taking a moment to stand still, completely at ease in tranquility,

Hand in hand the sun dances playfully making patterns on our skin,

It warms the world around us, enlightens our path,

Illuminating my face and soul, I need to feel alive and free,

I start to run, making footprints in the soil leaving a trail of history on the earth,

Feeling inspired by you,

From the green earth and shimmering sky surrounding us,

Looking back wanting you to chase me,

Needing you to keep up with my every step,

Knowing my boundless energy and free spirit is hard to tame,

But wondering if it is you that can run free along side of me,

Your larger strides outweigh mine,

Tumbling to the ground, you whisper “Don’t run, I am here”,

Our bodies’ entangled, blue birds sing a sultry tune beckoning us to follow the rhythm,

Beneath the grape vines on a bed made of grass making a peaceful haven,

Breathing in the sugary scent of premature wine and wild lavender,

My heart races with your every touch, excited of the unexpected,

My golden mane is scattered around me, making a pillow in the meadow,

You are a famous painter your hands a brush,

 I am your muse your own canvas outstretched under you,

Pure and bare, taking all of me and make me your own,

Leaving no surface un-touched,

Skillfully working a natural canvas into elaborate radiance,

 A work of art sweeping golden hues along my soft curves,

Resembling the mountains that surrounds us, rolling hills dipping low,

I fall deeper as you paint me, hoping you never want to finish,

Knowing our paths may separate when the sun trades places with the moon…

 

The clock’s hands move toward early dawn,

My eyes flutter like butterflies wings slowly reaching consciousness,

The colors of the sun dance on your face,

I reach out to you and pull you near,

The cool air blows free and awakens my soul,

Stirring from the peace of my vineyard,

All that I dreamt had been untrue,

When I wake; I want to wake next to you.

Footprints

Footprints

 

May 2011

 

Standing and making a question in the wind, setting everything in my being in a book. Groundedness and roots are not present. Lasting love breaks my soul; one relationship comes to an end, while another one starts.

 

Making circles in the sand; thinking you forgot to hold my hand. You write my name next to yours but the waves wash it away, slowly washing away our history into the sea. You don’t bother to rewrite it.

 

Instead you pick me up and spin me around, looking in my eyes you lift me higher, all that surrounds us is invisible, we fall laughing in dizziness in the sand, landing on the cool earth we kiss

 

My head spins with yours wishing you can stand still with me; both knowing it will never be. Perhaps the words you speak are true, true that you love me, true that I left footprints on your soul.

 

Maybe nothing about our love is true; I pray that what I feel you feel too. I pray we come back to each other; pull and pushing like the tide of the sea that laps and dances at our feet. Falling again into each other with every beat of what is real, what is right.

 

Listening to music with my feet on your dashboard, with the windows down and our hair flying free, searching for a new beach and a new adventure together. Your hand in mine as you change gears in the car and bottle of wine sitting between us, getting lost but always finding our way.

 

Trouble and curiosity beckons both of us, playfully you become mine. My heart is yours, if you love me. You breathe me in, and I breathe you out.

 

(You know who you are)

 

 

 

Sweet Rice and a memory of Bali

Memory of Bali - September 2009

I sit here listening to the rain, Balinese boys laughing and playing and a familiar sound of country music echoes through the night. I am sitting on my balcony in the beautiful island of Bali. Trying to find something, maybe myself, yoga or a spiritual discovery. I have the urge to write; idea’s and thoughts poring out of my soul. I have been backpacking Southeast Asia for 3 weeks now, each day finding a new discovery. I sit and wonder, or ponder many questions about myself, god and my new and old life. I realize that I am different, changed a new sense of discovery lights my face. I have followed my dream listened to my heart, and as it comes to a close I cant help but wonder what else is out there for me to discover. I have two hearts and I am struggling which one is more important to me. My first heart is to travel, learn, experience and my second heart is my home where my fiancé and family are. I can not decide which one is heavier on the balancing scale. Of course people in my life are most important but I am not sure that I am finished, and that getting married is what I really want to do? Is it just the safe option? Or what I am supposed to do? Is it a fear of never finding a better or stronger love, because I know that I will not he is perfect? I am not sure if I am ready to go “home” yet. But I have been on my own for the last year, I am returning a brighter, self sufficiently, independent woman. In the last year I have used I resources and done things I never thought I could do: such as fixing my toilet in Korea with my bare hands, a hair pin, paper clip and hair tie. I mean I can use resources! Who would have thought? I have been lost and found, literally and figuratively. I face fears of returning, I am in Indonesia alone and I am afraid of returning to the place I grew up.

I decided to read Eat, Pray, Love for a second time while I am here. We happen to be on the same road in Bali. And I was just invited to Italy for a few weeks. I think what do I really want. I am scared to return, what will I do, will I find a job? I am scared to figure out if my fiancé and I will work out. Maybe, I am afraid that it may not.  Do I really want to be married?  I am struggling with in myself for the right answers. I look down at myself, I look different. My hair is darker and thinning because of the water and lack of vitamins and protein. My wrists are filled with bracelets from women around Thailand that tied them on me. My finger has a ring that symbolizes luck from a market in Bali. I have cuts and tons of mosquito bites from diving and climbing and sitting outside looking at the stars at night. I have found my inner artist, fashionesta and bare foot hippie child. I am more fit and crave extreme sports and activity. I haven’t had a period in a year. Some days I look in the mirror and do not recognize the new woman looking back at me. What am I searching for?  What do I want? Do I want to be married?

 

 

Bali

The smell of incense and spices fills the air, smoke drifts from the mountains and temples filling me with spiritual delight.

It has been raining since I got here, but that hasn’t stopped me from discovering Ubud. My first stop was determined by a game of rock, scissor, paper with my friend. “I win I go south first, you win I go North first” I won, so I am sitting in the South, in the artsy center. It is filled with paintings, sarongs, women caring heavy baskets on their heads and hand cut wood carvings. When I arrived I had no idea where I was headed, no idea where I was going to stay and sleep that night. I had not a dime in the local currency in my pocket to buy a clue. In my first 30 minutes I grabbed a cab which I we became instant friends and he asked if I wanted to stop and meet a good friend of his. Of course I did! We stopped at a huge warehouse/farm that was an  art gallery. In the gallery were elaborate paintings, I met an artist by the name of Made. We talk and share smiles. He tells me I am different and that I am happy he can see it on my face and in my light. He invites me to live with him and his family and teach me how to paint. He wants to see me everyday, and share my energy and spirit with him and his family. He asks for nothing in return, no money or favors just the kindness of living with him. Unfortunately, I politely declined, but I am thinking why not? I reason was I would want to stay longer in Asia, I know in my heart that if I stayed and lived with this Balinese family, I may never come “home”.  At this time, I had a ring on my finger and a fiancé waiting for me to stop being a nomad and come home to get married. I buy a painting. And I had another plan, I had to find another man with the same name. There are four names in Bali, yes four. So, the first child are all called the same name and then the list goes down, when a family has five children they start all over again. Which can be quiet confusing to an outsider. So, I have my own mission impossible, to find a man whose name is Made, like first born on this island and have him accept me as his student. I only know that he owns a silver making shop and his first name. I have no address, no city name and no idea where to start and why something magnetic is pulling me closer to this man. Not only was there a captivating pull towards him, but also the county, and to have this adventure alone. I felt in my heart that no one could come with me but I must find my own way.

 In the streets of Ubud are shops and tourist. Strangers offer conversation, and will talk to you without knowing you at all. The constant question of where are you going? And where are you coming from? Flows smoothly from people sitting on the road. The land smells of sweet flowers and the air is fresh compared to the thick air of Seoul. Life seems to have a slower pace, which is calming. I explored Monkey forest temple where hundred of monkeys live in the open. I got a massage and pedi at a local spa and talked to a young Balinese woman about boys. Women and children are the same everywhere. The woman love to talk all day, talk about men and share beauty secrets. Children play and run in the street barefoot; laughing their sarongs kissing the sandy earth. I smile to myself. I watch a traditional dance with live music; it was entrancing.  It is still raining. I have a yoga class in an hour, and tomorrow I am going to a small city to search for Made, accompanying my journey is a cool looking Balinese man with a long ponytail and quite large muscles. He is driving me across the island on the back of his motorcycle.  

 

I just came back from my yoga class. It was enlightening and wonderful. It was like nothing I have experienced before. It was insightful to the culture and religion. He referred to GOD a lot, it was beautiful. The yoga was a cross between releasing negative energy; I think there was a point where he was out of his body. I swear it. I feel lighter, my heavy heart and mind are now at peace. I got home and danced around. Tomorrow is a new adventure and I don’t believe in time.

 

I wake up to my friend at the front desk “good morning dear” wake up. I go down and chat with her, she tells me each day I look more “fresh faced.”  That is a great sign; maybe I am becoming myself again after a hard year. I realize in retrospect how challenging my job was, and my body and mind feel lighter each day. Also, I am becoming more comfortable in my own skin. Its about time, dessert first anyone? Ok I am not there yet, but slowly I am recovering and balancing my mind, body and soul. I think about the yoga session last night…it was as if he was talking about me. Maybe I am an egocentric American.  He had me pick up my leg and rock it like a baby, he explained that we have to treat each body part with loving kindness like we would a child. We need to concentrate our minds on taking care of each body part. I decide he is right.

 

I rode through the country side grabbing a handsome older man with a ponytail around the waist, praying that I wouldn’t die and laughing. We drove through rice fields as green and wide as the eye can see. Women balancing palm baskets which are offerings to ancestors and gods on their heads walking to temples. Children were in the streets wearing traditional clothes because tonight is the full moon. We stop at the oldest temple in Bali. There was a ceremony getting ready to take place. Women were making offerings and lighting incenses, the smell is intoxicating. Offerings to the GODS were placed on wooden carts with wheels, resembling accent wagons. They were filled with fruit and sweet sticky rice.  The men were sitting and talking and cooking meat on an open fire. The temple was organic and green. You could feel the presences of something peaceful and calm. I walk down the 400 stairs and bought a sarong from a man with a beautiful bright eyed little girl. Her eyes were the color of coffee and a shy smile filled her wondrous face. I kept walking and became speechless from the greenery of the rice fields, the cascade of waterfalls and intoxicating smells. Everyone is happy and laughing. The community welcomes me and says good morning. I am in bliss: I am grateful: I feel small in this large world. Our next stop is an organic plantation. My driver enjoyed explaining the kinds of plants; coffee, coco, vanilla, cumin and ginger. He shows me the animal a mongoose which eats coffee beans then poops them out, it is cleaned and made into an “earthy” brew. “It is expensive in other parts of the world and considered a delicacy” he explains. He wants me to try the “poo” coffee. Hell, yes! I will try shit coffee. He is right, it is “earthy.” I am a vegetarian and hope this doesn’t count. The guide is hilarious and we sit overlooking the plantation sipping fresh coconut milk, ginger tea, poo coffee and ginseng coffee. He tells me to buy some for my husband “Good stamina” he says, “It make for very good lover” he explains with a mischievous smile. So, I buy some and hope he is right.

 

The driver and I make small talk during the 4 hour drive. I like him, his energy is good and I enjoy his company. The small village that we are going to is a stretch of many small villages spread out. There are hardly any tourist and has small hotels. It feels good, quiet and welcoming. Within seconds I decide I already love it here. I kiss my new friend on the cheek as he helps me with my bags to the small bungalow where I am staying. My room is beautiful and has intricate details carved into the wood. I am overlooking the ocean on a small hill. It is freeing and breath taking all at once. I am lucky. I can not sit for long and walk down to the beach, The beach is covered with black sand! I have never seen black sand! I take off my shoes and run through the smooth darkness as I sink into the earth. I am one with my earth, my GOD and myself. It is warm and feels safe on this beach. Only a few people line the beach, snorkeling and swimming. The waters edge holds coral and rocks and the water is shallow enough to swim out very far. I am lucky. I take a deep breath and lay on the clay like sand; it has the texture of a stress ball…my own earth bean bag. I open my book, and chat with an older lady trying to give me a massage. She is nice and has a heart warming smile with missing teeth. I like her immediately. But, I have a goal, and I explain to her who I am looking for and why I am here.

I need to find my guru, my yoga man. I get up and start out on a mission…I need to find a new hotel room and guru, maybe not in that order. I roam the streets in flip flops a sarong and a bikini. I stop at each shop looking for yoga specialties and clues where I may find this man. Everyone stops me to ask “where are you from?” and “where do you live here?” and  “How long do you stay?”  “How many people are you with?” says an elderly man sitting on his porch with a piece of hay dangling from his lips.  Its interesting, I come to the conclusion that Bali is the place to be alone because everyone will talk to you. I feel a little shy about putting myself out there for real friendship here. I can’t pinpoint it. I will do better tomorrow. After walking quite far and speaking with multiple people later I walk back to my hotel…ok tomorrow I will find him! With an optimistic smile and passion.

 

Then I look up and a sign on a wall in the back of a restaurant says “yoga, spiritual healing” I go in. Next door is a silver shop, I think I have found him. I talk to his friend I am going tomorrow. I am so excited, I hope this works out and that I can study from him. For tomorrow I need to get rest and allow myself to sleep in. I can exercise and then relax in the sun for the rest of the day. I think again I hope I can study yoga from this man. I feel there is something to be learned from him I feel drawn to him and I don’t even know him. I have to meet him. I also need to be more willing to make friends, and invite them to dinner or chat longer with people. It seems I am talking to people then “you want to go to sunset on my bike” meaning I will show you for money. That is not their intention but it is true. I need to focus on positive energy and peace of mind. Also bring good people into my life. I breathe in for peace, for change for life. I feel myself become more ME. More artistic, I am not going to hold back on art anymore. I want to learn to paint and dance while I am here. Breathe for change, breath for me, breathe for peace in my heart. I only want to give love, I can only give love. And I can’t give what I don’t have, which is negative energy, so I can only give love, compassion and light.

 

Later his friend rides his scooter to come find me, yoga man can’t have class tomorrow. But he wants me to come meet him now. His friend invites me to dinner and later on to enjoy the festival, I am in a wet suit and have nothing but my room key. I politely say “I am very tired and need to shower and rest.” I hope I did not offend him, and that this will not determine my study. So, I will meet him the day after tomorrow. I think I should stay the rest of my stay on this beach. It is quiet except for the festivities but that is only tonight. I can hear the lullaby of the crashing waves softly against the black sand between songs and dance. I can see the lights and feel a faint breeze from my open window bringing the smell of incents.

Question

It has been a little over a month; the culture shock has worn down as well as my heart. It feels a little better now, the pieces are coming together. Perhaps some things are never meant to work out, or even last forever. What in life really lasts a life time anyway? At least it doesn’t exist with my wondering heart, and perhaps eyes. Feeling like I am, in fact, where I am supposed to be and my decision is the right choice. I guess a woman always knows, no matter what she may say, she always feels it in her heart from the very beginning if it is going to be lasting love or just Right now.

I can’t help but feel at constant struggle, may be it will never change with me. And what is it that I really want? A friend after over a year without seeing each other she asks a loaded question, “Why did you come back?” Was it love? Was it boredom? Well, the answer was many factors. Perhaps the biggest is the fact that I was working and living illegally in a country for over two years. Now, that is a pretty big whooper, and quite and good reason. Being an American and not having an EU passport can create some problems if you want to travel within Europe, or say even go home. I went home via Amsterdam air thinking it was a good choice, they aren’t so rigid. Really, the best choices are Italy and Spain, perhaps Greece. But, I could not find a flight that was a good price flying out of Italy. When I got off the plane and went to passport control, naturally, I opted for the line with the most handsome man. So, I batted my blues and when he asked me how long I have been traveling in Europe, I lied through my bleached teeth. When he asked me why I didn’t have a stamp on my passport, I continued my white lie and said I arrived in Sicily and it was late at night and no one was at the airport. Which is what happened the first year I lived in Italy. He asked me if I but a spell and bewitched the other passport control officers like I am doing to him, I told him I had no idea, but it could be a possibility, gave a smile and he let me go, passing along his number in my passport. However, if he was not male and I did not flirt perhaps I would be in some jail or deported. Who knows? Coulda, shoulda, woulda.  So, this is one reason I moved back.
But now I am wondering if it is the right choice for me. Leaving Italy was the right choice, for reasons stated above and I am ready to spread my wings again and fly. I went to Italy to heal and find love in my lost soul. I did and now I am found; half of my heart will always remain on that Southern coast with cold blue hues, six women that became my sisters and an adopted family.
 I left and circled the world, looking for some thing or searching for myself only to finish exactly where I had started, like a board game that brings you back to START. So, over two years later I am sitting near the same man that helped me learn to live again before heading off for another Italian adventure, a romance that never completed fizzled out and hopefully it never will.
 So, the question is “How do you know what you want, if you have a wondering heart?” I have dreams about riding on a horse in the Arabian Desert and salsa dancing in South America. I had the same dreams before I went to Italy, I dreamt in Sienna orange, villas, smooth musical sounds of Italian and the Mediterranean Sea. It came true, I lived it. I struggle with conforming into what my culture says a woman should do and what my adventurous soul craves. When I look at my friends from the past, they have children and a husband. A latest accessory attached at the hip, and I am not speaking of a Chanel bag. Yikes. Is my first reaction, it is some what like a response to poison ivy. Slightly itchy and irritating. But then again, they are really cute, and I sometimes get a longing of my own. However, the pull to be riding a horse in the Desert with an Arabian prince is a lot stronger. Will I ever be finished and ready to settle? And how do you fight with two hearts?
A wise siren said “A man can never fulfill the adventure my heart craves." Perhaps true for some of us.

"Reserve delivacy of sentiment for friendship; accept love for what it is...
The more dignity you give it,
the more dangerous you make it."

- Ninon de Lenclos

Peace

Peace on earth
I come in peace, I walk in peace, I love in peace
With a war outside my door but can not see
I can only feel within my heart
I no not the truth, I no not your feelings and pain
I know we are all the same
In our differences behind skin color
Lies the truth
My hearth beats like yours
I have two eyes that see
And can feel the sting of a bee
We are the same
We want the best for our children
And love our families
So why let religion and skin color differentiate
The sameness
If you respect me, and I respect you
If you see me for who I am and not my exterior colors
If I see you for who you are and not your outer walls
If you are you and I am me
Why can’t we all see?
That we are just the same
Beneath the easel of palate
I walk with two feet touching the ground
You walk and swing two arms, like me
I come in peace
I come with love in my heart
We must carry love, let go of the hate
We only have one chance
One planet that fits both you and me
Love is the answer, respect is the key
We are the same, you are you and I am me
By: Krysta Golden Moore

Bread crumbs

How do we ever know when something is right? A wise 17 year old said “I couldn’t make a decision because both choices were wrong for me." A clever young girl, who possibly has it right. If both choices are wrong, of course we can not make a decision, or if both decisions are right then there is no regret to be made. Does regret exist? Or is it something that we create in our minds? And can we ever go back on a decision that we have made? We are taught as children that all things are either right or wrong but when it comes to making decisions is there a right or a wrong? It is getting closer to the time in which I need to decide what I will do for the following year.
I am no closer to reaching a decision. I have searched high, low and with-in to find the right answer. Perhaps both choices are right, or perhaps neither is the right choice. I know that I want to publish my book, go back to university in a master program and find a job where I am stable and happy. I know that I want to travel but may not want to live in those places for years; I can finally say that stability sounds nice. I don’t necessarily feel the same excitement that I felt when thinking of unknown places. Of course it will never go away, the feeling of adrenalin running wild through my body, standing still to face the great unknown, but I think I am closer to the closing where stability and material objects are appealing. However, I can not help having a sad and contrary feeling, thinking to myself “is that all?” And “Do I want to see more?” Along the course of healing from a past love and almost marriage, I find myself in love again with a different man. One that when I think of leaving him my heartbreaks, and tears flow from my eyes. It is unlike any other relationship of my past, this is the most healthy, loving and respectful relationship I have ever known. Does that come often? He ticks many boxes on my long list of strengths and abilities. But is that enough? How do we know when Mr. Right Now becomes Mr. Right? A friend once told me that it is okay to question him and our relationship; it is in my nature to question everything real and intangible. I stand in the supermarket with two loafs of bread because I can not decide on one, which one is right for me this week, which one will last longer, be better for my health,versatility, can I make use of it’s staleness and change it into something new,something better, say, bread crumbs. As I question my whole grain baguette, of course I am going to question my life partner. Is he my whole grain or just another run of the mill wonder bread? How do we know what is right for us? I do think that he is right, in many ways; I know that I would be fully happy with him, for years and years to come but is that enough? Does happiness overcome other battles, such as a career. I would have to give up living near my family, and having a career because in the South of Italy while economy is crying out is not the best plan, can I leave my country forever? I would have to work, we would have to work, to fight to share a common land. Is love worth the battle?

 

Unknown

23.05.2012

Your head rest on my pillow as you dream the unknown, in colors in red. I am just grateful that you are near. You sleep while I write; my mind fills with questions for you. I have a million things to tell you, secrets to share. But I can only give you what I am right now. Who is to say what this will become, let’s not think of the future but dream now. No need for language, no need for a voice or a script. Just let me be who I am. Loving you is simple and predictable; it is everything that my life is not. I am nothing of simplicity; nothing about my being is simple. But you give it to me, you breathe in my chaos as you exhale a simple tune. I know what each day holds, and each day is more beautiful than the last, but there are times you surprise me with your passion and love. It makes me want to know you more, tell me your tale. You dream, I write. I only have words to offer you, I can give you every word I know. I can not promise you a future with me, nor can I offer stability, that would be a lie. You and I both know that one day I will go, and you will stay. We will go our separate ways and hope one day, another life they will cross again. I offer you philosophy and you lend me your ear. You feed me incite to your life, you give me pieces of you. We lead lives, but we come together to offer a fresh idea. We are unique, oceans and seas separate our mentalities, I offer you mine and I will take yours. Your distinctive, you stand out in my mind in a sea full of identical rivers that run in the south. One flow of thinking in the depths of the country you offer me a little more. You are the cool lake that I want to swim in on a hot day, merging our ideas uniting our souls. Differences pull us closer together now, linking the differences in our worlds. What happens next?