I've
woken up.
The sound of shifting
growth welcomes me.
I see the stars, glimmering like
a shattered mirror.
The edges are encompassed
by Tall shadows, their silent
stance shifting in the breeze.
I feel like I need to do this.
I need to bury
a part of myself
Here.
Here; And paint the memory.
I'm standing there, here.
I dig down with my bare feet.
Shifting aside that which has
been there for Ages, for what
will only be there temporarily.
I've done it.
I've buried that which
binds me here, there.
2 inches
2 inches in the soil.
Just enough to cover
my feet. I feel myself
cooling. This fire that
lights my soul is starting
to merge with the ancient fire
of this place.
All through that which kept me there.
I can't help but wiggle
my toes in the soil.
It brings me memories.
There is a soldier buried
here. His green fatigues
soiled. Whatever memories
he had are long gone. Or
do they linger still? When
I pick up his little body,
I feel his story. There is
no definition to life. Only
what you bring to it. And
for him, it was Joy. I hold
him up to my face. He is
green, surrounded by gold.
I'm looking at a shimmering
river. I've buried my feet
in the loose soil. A bird,
bright red, scarlet. It has
landed beside me.
We look at each other.
He is surrounded by gold.
The moon is so bright, tonight.
The light warms my soul.
"Hundreds of thousands of people
are looking at the moon right now, with you."
My mother would tell me.
I would feel contentment for a moment.
But then, the inevitable realization.
How many of those thousands have no one?
How many are wandering the darkness, looking?
Aching with the deepest part of their soul,
hoping to find them. Their one.
So give up.
I am.
Is that so? They why do I see that silk thread?
That thread that hangs, connecting mind to hope.
I can't bring myself to cut it. Small as it is.
He has no response for me. Nothing is my answer.
I throw my heart there. I feel it tearing from my
body. Connected solely by that silk string of hope.
Maybe.
Maybe someone else with a soul worth feeling.
Maybe they will feel mine. See it there.
You can see the hole it leaves on the moon.
Maybe they'll find me.
A cry, like a woman screeching
echos over the forest.
Shaking me out of my reverie.
A shadow flits over my eyes.
A bird flies between the moon and me.
Must have been coyotes.
Better light the fire and sit.
It's as good a time as any to empty the mind, and feel.