The perennial moment turns into mornings of assimilation.
Disbelief surrounds the memories in our minds that devour the past looking for more and expecting that none of this is true.
But it is true.
The soil keeps you now.
The soil nurtures the greens of hope for a future where we would meet again.
Would that happen?
My soul drifted away from those I love while seeking for God and knowledge .
Can’t seem to come back to any of them, the attempts are too little and weak.
It is not upsetting yet it causes me to wonder had I been doing the right this void would not be all there is… but it feels the choices were wrong.
Once I thought they, the loved ones, should come in first. God demands that him/her should and no one else.
There is conflict in my mind, in my heart.
And even though that feeling of struggling invades my peace of mind, I am calmed.
I was little, and dreamy.
I would wait for your arrival in the reds that coloured and shaped the horizon.
I would eagerly wait to ride to the beach with you.
At that time it seemed you were far, too far from where I was.
It was a thrill to see you arrive.
That is and will no more.
For far in fact you are, and you will arrive no more.
Nor I.
