As I feel the grass outlining my limbs,
the wind rustling the leaves in the tree above me, I wonder.
I wonder and I wonder, I wonder until my mind is mush oozing out of my ears.
Birds chirp and tweet as they flutter to their homes from a long day of work, as do we.
And as the warm light of dusk sinks low behind houses and hills I shall remain as I am,
a heart.
I return to sit atop the brick mailbox, its smooth, curved top providing a fine spot to view my past.
I feel the breeze blow against my right, my hair bouncing every so often.
Present and past selves sit next to one another. I can see through his eyes and he through mine.
I miss them.
I hold the memories like a baby bird.
How the Summers of the past have spoiled me.
Write.
It’s that simple.
Don’t worry about your worries.
Just put pen to paper.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
I write to invoke feeling.
I want to be like William Wordsworth and create a spontaneous overflow of emotion when people read my writing.
I want you remind you that you’re human.
I want to be the cause of your good day.
Sometimes it’s hard to think;
Sometimes it’s hard to do.
Sometimes the sky can be white,
and other times it can be blue.
The ground can be soft,
or it can be hard.
What can we do but to love it all.
A sunset in autumn is like watching, what we can only imagine to be, the end of the world. This is especially true with the falling leaves. The trees look as if they have been set ablaze, and their twirling little ones are like the ash that rises and flutters down from bonfire.
I adjust my coat and roll my shoulders as I continue down the sidewalk, admiring the apocalypse. Children are at play in the park; their parents are keeping a close eye on them, you can’t be too careful these days. Everyone I see has some sort of coat or scarf dawned, there is a gentle breeze, I should have brought my scarf.
I walk past the park and start to see some of the mom n’ pop businesses, the smell of generosity and love fill the air as I near. Those smells always comfort me. The scents almost have their own look to them. Images of cinnamon rolls and warm bread, right out of a traditional oven flow into my head, I hope they stay for a while.
The sun continues to light the sky on fire, albeit she’s getting tired.
Rain pattering against the metal frame and dotting the glass
Calm, tranquil, necessary
Allowing the back of your head to rest against the nylon fabric seat
Happy, familiar, safe
Pale hands pressed against my bloodied right side. The medical tent wasn’t a place that you wanted to be, the smell of iron and the sound of pained groaning saturated the atmosphere.
I winced as the nurse pressed a little harder. I glanced up at her. She was older than me, by a few years it seemed; she had short blonde hair, it was probably easier to keep it out of wounds with it being that length, blue eyes, really vibrant blue eyes too.
“Just hold still for a moment” she told me; I could hear the stress in her voice, I wasn’t exactly the only one with blood coming out of his body in the tent, others needed her attention. “Guérir”; as the words passed her lips, a faint blue, pulsing aura emanated from her hands. The color and energy were strongest at the center of her palms, that’s where I could feel it the most, and radiated outward into the air where it dissolved.
The pain was still present; it would be amazing if she could fully heal a wound within the first session, but these things take time. In-between sessions my body would heal naturally, this was just to speed up the process.
“Good” she said quickly as another wounded man was being carried into the tent. He looked to be in worse shape than me, with a large gash across his chest; that might take more than a healing session to fix. “Lie still and don’t move, you’ll only cause more damage to yourself”; with that, she stood up and quickly moved to help the other nurses with the man who had just been carried into the tent.
War is hell they say.
Take my body and make it light as a feather.
I embrace the soft sheets.
Allow a faint breeze to carry me to the clouds, where I will be content.
My wispy frame will flutter in the breeze and I will see the world.
writelikewater 