Sunday, February 16, 2014

Brooding in the Aftermath

I sit and brood in the aftermath.
I feel like I've been hit by a missile.
But I don't think poor me.
I think of how I can avoid this feeling in the future.
So I close my eyes and I disappear.

Energy pulses and fluctuates in front of my eyelids.
And I wonder why the desperation.
I already cried at the heavy moments.
Displeasure somehow becomes pleasure.
And I walk into a valley.

In the valley there are amazing mixtures of flowers and beautiful trees.
The birds are all blue.
And I'm always myself in awe.
Of the nature of things.
And the powerful moments I might not remember.

And there's a warm breeze and a brook here.
And my friends are all gone.
I am alone and complete without any external needs.
And I am amazed at the oxen in the field.
The hard hooves are sinking into the soil.

And in the valley I am dreaming.
And I slowly let go of what was and what could be.
And I'm silent finally with no expostulations.
When the sun flashes across my face like a strobe my eyes look turquoise and amber.
Because the night never came I was given light.

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