Colormewrite's Blog

A small tap, a gentle push

A slithering, burrowing force

The effervescent inevitable rise of joy

The opposing forces of fear and trust, questioning and intuition, tear at the seams of my sanity like a rabid dog separating flesh from bone.

The stagnation of my indecision choking thicker than smoke inhalation in the burning building of what’s left of my splintered thoughts.

Each breath a dagger hanging on a thread that could release with an irrevocable vengeance with either choice.

So much love and hope eclipsed by doubt-freedom marred by unknown consequence.

PLEASE! I shout to the nameless, faceless, supposedly blameless gods…why do my prayers for a miracle at best, or guidance at the very least go unanswered?

Perhaps the silence is the answer.

In the waiting the healing and clarity will hopefully become germane.

Slant

Glint

Angle finagled

Capture or create

Image on slate

Diminish or amplify

Make the meek speak

The candid retreat

In the shutters eye they meet

Blurred pixels developing clarity

Almost more poetic when left undone

Bokeh

Place down the pawns

Play the game

Wrap up another day

Never stay this way

Move forward, or stand your ground

Resolution’s never found in the stagnating absence where indecision holds us captive

Bow to your captor, or claim your rapture in letting go

An entity absent, but the scent still lingers…wafting like a shadow’s trail in the mist

Clearing traces of what might have been, revealing footprints in the mud

Wet soil folding in upon disappearing fossils of what once was

Somewhere between lay the potential of dreams and reality, interwoven by the thread of faith

The mate of my soul

Love not lover

Platonic, familial, filial bond

How I longed for a depth only you could unearth

So pure and bright nothing else held gravity in its light

I may have birthed you, but with the first beat of your heart mine was reborn, and I will love you long after its last earthly beat with a pulse eternal

Serendipitous sweet savory sweat

Nectar of dripping droplets from your neck

A delectable treat this aerobatic feat

Hearts on trapeze, weak in the knees

Bouncing net dirty & wet rolling in grass

Lend me your ears that my tears my hear the story of years you’ve loved, lost, longed & won

Tell me your tale in one breath or less that I may make sense of this empty mess

Put all preconceived notions to the test, shake it up, disrupt, erupt, now rest-that we may play at this again tomorrow

With present & past you hold me between thumb & forefinger-almost as tight as your shadow that lingers

*I wrote this during the start of the pandemic & came across it today…

Leaves fall effortlessly in the wind, or with time

Now whacked unexpectedly more topple, confused

Nearby we shelter, uncertain & hopeful-the only truths inside ourselves

Praying our limbs will still bloom-fruitful, connected as one on this tree of life

Flowers clinging as I do to my prayer

Like clutching air, yet somehow I believe as surely as I breathe, you are there

We are in your care

Blowing kisses to all in the sunshine of disaster

Preparing for a rainbow

When time halts

Embers of breath dissipate

Longing retreats into acceptance

No hustle or bustle, or thing of import

Only love & truth & meaning in what words cannot touch

Silent knowing

Wisdom’s smile

Soul at peace

Rebirthed in stillness

Re-entry to unknown bliss

Will you, won’t you, could I, would I, should we, shan’t we

Enchanted choices, endless voices leading to vices or victories

Pull back the curtain, or leave it a mystery

Get where you’re meant to be regardless

The road can be grungy or golden-depending-sometimes one hides, or becomes, the other

Is it so crucial, or just what it is, and the only judgement is delivered by the decider

Maybe Oz had it right hiding to allow for others’ illusions, except he deluded himself, assumed he knew best, and staved the truth from the rest

Write your own story, follow (or build) your own colorful brick road, and be honest along the way

Or, be the master of your own illusion, and welcome the dagger of blinding light when your veil too is lifted, torn, or ripped-depending

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