I’m sure I have, or so I’ve been told - I wanted the words to flow: to mirror the chain of thought that spawned them…
21st
Thoughts: contemplative, but with purpose
Humour: in neutral
Mood: dictating the need to listen to new metal
Tone: melancholic
Mind: devoid of any hindering bullshit (pretty much empty, then)
Morality: high
22nd
Boredom threshold: low
Energy levels: hyper-drive
Spirits: high
Interactivity: connected
Appetite: low
Mood: elevated
Sleep: insomniac
…will add to this list: as the day goes on!
Apparently ten years is when whatever is supposed to take effect, takes effect and that’s all I know/have been told - a change that I have no control over.
I was watching the wind blow through
your hair
When I knew I loved you
And a thousand moments since,
I miss your touch
And now my poem is the only way
I see you
And it’s not enough
Ahh, distant sister from across the sea, apparently we share certain memories.
It’s hard to tell the dead that you love them -
But then again…
When I die
Will you miss me when I die?
When the earth and the grass cover me over;
when the sun and the moon take turns
proving me no more?
Never cry,
Don’t mourn.
I am the Robin and the worm,
The Heron and the fish.
The earth that covers me,
is nothing less than me,
and the stars, just my soul,
reflecting life
in the dark night sky.
Life shares more than one flesh,
and like moss,
I grow on
the nearest stone.
Shaded, by the trees,
I reach across
time.
I am one with the rain,
and need no tears.
…and so the abstraction continued: until days became weeks,
and weeks became months, and months became years: until a decade was reached,
and the ten years they spoke of was now a reality!
I came to understand that their non-chalance about it
was due to the ten years having no effect upon their being, but on mine alone,
and on those who shared a similar dilemma to the one that presented itself to me.