Soft paw pads on the ground
Picking up dirt as you’re running in circles
Summer lullabies & sun bathing
Looking at ripples in water
The brightest of things are not always in the spot light
Defining a family, you were our bright light
The little red bridge in the sun
Marking a connection between the past and the present
Between the distance and the closeness
Between the sky and the ground
Did I disappoint you today?
Did I tread to loud?
You never like the noise my shoes make on the ground.
I’m told to be strong, and wise, and unique.
I’m told to be quiet, to be apprehensive, and meek.
I feel the strain of the voices I hear
I am debased by my own vulnerability and fears
but I take in the words, the thoughts, the voices
I belittle myself for all my “wrong” choices
To forgive and re-gift myself with the freedom
To live life as a new individual and leave them
Leave the guilt and the fears and the judgments behind
Realize I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine
Droplets of sun dance on the tips of my leather boots
Draped out in front of me as I close my eyes
I lean into the bricks at my back
I can taste the past
I close my eyes and I am back at the ruins
Glistening wise water dancing at my fingertips
Eyes wide, the promise of a miracle
I see it in the water
Every gleaming possibility of the present and the past
Seven years old in the afternoon running in the sun
No sense of time to rush or move slowly
I used to dance and close my eyes as I leaned against trees
Gently noticing the sun slipping in and out of the clouds
Reflected by shadows upon me
It swirls in my thoughts like a paint pallet with a dash of water
And I see the red of my eye lids with closed eyes
I breathe and watch it smolder
All I want is a space of our own. A place lit by sunlight and full of life and laughter. I want to run and play. I want to be a child with you- want to be free.
We’ve imagined it before. In dorm rooms and hotel rooms. Playing house and pretending things were simple. It’s bliss.
I want you and me. I want to see you every morning and every night. I want to laugh with you, cry with you, love with you- learn, fly, fall, grow with you. I want summer to open up the doors for us to run away- to be new again and untouched by the things that have marked us. Then again, that’s the rose colored hue on life. It isn’t reality. And the truth is I love us just as we are.
And at the end of the day, I am perfectly content lying on the living room floor, hair wet from swimming, something cooking in the oven and laughing as we talk about new adventures to come. Because love is what can make us feel free.
I’ve loved you in a high school classroom, stuck in traffic, star gazing in a park, on a college bench at 2 in the morning when the scary realities settle in, and over the phone as we needed one another. I’ve loved you in whispers across pillow cases and twirls in the kitchen as you hum.
I’ll love you always. And sometimes I want that to consume reality so that everything else slips away maybe just for a brief moment- and sometimes I let it.
It’s The People That Matter
There is a long strip of road I never knew existed when you turn off the busy street next to the CVS and Starbucks. Some say they don’t enjoy it because it’s too thin of a road; it’s hard to turn back around and some may even say it’s boring. Maybe even a little run down. I would go as far to say that many people don’t even know it’s there-tucked to the sides of populated streets. Just waiting to lead people to sleepy barns along the river.
I don’t remember the first time I was there. Maybe I had been there several times before, but was too distracted in the back seat to take notice- to take in it’s beauty. But this place is magical if you let it. The feeling encompassing that small road and canopy of green breathe a little of their magic into you- breathes in relief. My mom must have recognized this as a safe haven from exposure and as the selfless woman she is, she decided to share this place with me.
The date is unclear as is the time of year- maybe it was spring? I was about twelve or thirteen and I was struggling with the baggage that comes hand in hand with that age. Maybe I was dealing with more than I was able to recognize and only she could see that in me. She knows me.
Some of my friends growing up never spoke to their parents- I always wondered why. Because amidst all my days of relentless brooding, distaste for being easily read and my fear of seeing my own faults- not once did I ever believe that she didn’t understand. You see, if she didn’t she would have never brought me on that long trip of road time and time again. She wouldn’t have thought of it, wouldn’t have wanted to waste the gas or her downtime. Those thoughts were never present. And even if they crossed her mind, as they may cross mine now, she never made them known.
People do things differently, but my mom- she just so happens to do things and do them beautifully. Because it wasn’t the murky water next to the road, it wasn’t the frailty of the green foliage in drought ridden California, and it wasn’t the pristine, but uninteresting wineries we passed that gave this place it’s glow. I never went alone and that is why my place of escape worked- because I could always find my way back home.
Little Notes To Myself 