I wish I lived somewhere
With the looming glory of mountains
Or the soothing sound of oceans
Or the dazzling white of snow
Or the endless rows of one-hundred-stories
Or the stones of ancient settlements
Or the rushing roar of rivers
Or the night streets
(filled with people
walking, and laughing
and living...
Oh to truly live!
To not be sucked into the day to day
Mediocrity
by obligation
or comfort, or perhaps just the blindness: inexperience
of something better
something inspiring
something beautiful and passionate and real)
Or the quiet of a little cabin
Or the cold chill of the night air
Or the warmth of a little flame
Or the light of fiery orange
Or the sinking-into-your-chair softness of a good book
Or the corner of the eye vision of you
Or the happiness of love
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What a beautiful lament.
ReplyDeleteSomething is hurtful in this moment.
We NEED to grieve.
(I need to grive,
and much appreciated this as a means).