::imaginative introspection::

Imagine that all life is an illusion. All that exists is this moment. No past, no future, each memory, every plan, a part of the illusion. Life, in a photograph.

Do you like the image of yourself?

Friday, July 9, 2010

Instinct-- (some notes from my ramblings)

Pieces of midnight ramblings, hope you like it-- it goes along with this.   

She was a pretty little thing.  Happy and smiling, just beginning to form the sounds that eventually would become words, although now it was all gibberish, gurgles and squeals of delight.  The simplest things, a cool summer breeze, sent her into spiraling, unbridled joy at the fresh, earthy smell carried on the wind.  It calmed her, too, as she drifted off to sleep in her Papa’s arms, blissfully unaware of the dangers the future held. 
Elisesofia Petlykov ran. She ran through dark, empty streets, her cloak billowed behind her, the hood drawn tightly around her face.  Silent, but urgent, like a street cat, chasing its next meal.  She did not look back.  Only forward, searching for the number on the door of the safehouse.  4498.  She had memorized it years ago, as a child—but had never once imagined this day would occur.  All these houses, silent, each exactly like the next: dark, dirty, windows locked and curtains, usually just a black cloth, closed to block any light—from the inside or out. 


Well, the Earth once told me a story, though I didn’t know it at the time, of the rest of my life.  I walked down a path in the woods, weaving my way through the trees, breathing in the clean, fresh, earthy air you find only in a forest nowadays.  Birds darted among the trees around me, singing their song and hoping to find a mate.  Critters shuffled in the underbrush, scampering around as I came through their woods, startling them.  As I walked a long, for a moment I felt completely at home.  Yes, this is where I belong.  

doubt vanquished by love

I turn to see your smile and my heart skips a beat, 
my smile in return, involuntary.

I struggle to pull air back into these lungs, 
trapped in those eyes that reflect my own soul.   

You take my hand, eyes locked, 
minds interacting on a level that transcends speech--
and smile, softly, at the tear that comes, each time.

doubt vanquished by love