February 2008

a window in time

February 19, 2008 23:41

Alone, a deserted beach.
Calm and breathless.
Silent, save for the gentle murmuring of water as it hugs the shore,
A familiar embrace sounds.

Colored pebbles,
Painted memories,
Uneven and scattered
Like the jagged bits of sand that dot the shoreline.

A looking glass,
Seen but not touched.
Distant and forgotten
A mirrored image back in time.

The sun sets
Blues, reds, oranges, purples
Endlessly they melt into one another
Blurred like watercolors.

Darkness encircles
A new palette is revealed.
The stars shimmer, seamlessly
Tiny beacons reveal the lonely docks.

Solitary, the albatross swims by,
A longing call let out
Unreturned, he swims on
Searching, it's not how he remembers.

6 replies | Archive link


walking back in time

February 18, 2008 00:08

I went for a walk today. It was along a route I used to go quite frequently when I was younger. I remember how I used to stop and pause, my family's dog nudging at my side and just admire the view. The world seemed endless with the lakes and the mountains and blue sky, spotted with clouds. Today was one of those brilliant, clear blue days that are characteristic of life in the Okanagan in the summer, not so characteristic of winter. But today it was blue and and crisp and gorgeous outside and I was reminded of my walks with my dog from way back when. I was a lot more carefree and fearless back then. I remember encountering a rattlesnake on one of my walks, thinking, from a distance, that it appeared to just be a piece of rope but upon further inspection and a frantic movement and sound, it was apparent it was not just a harmless piece of rope. Continuing on the walk I was reminded of a favorite winter past-time of sledding down our neighbors driveway and bank. The driveway was not very fast or fun to sled down but was safer. The bank, which was more often the focus of our fun and amusement, ended in trees which were more often than not what brought our ride down the hill to a quick stop. Strange how pain seems to mean nothing when you're having a good time. I can't say that I'd still willingly careen myself down a hill on a crazy carpet towards trees and bushes now that I'm older and paranoid about my hands and arms and limbs in general.

I love the smell of winter and the crispness in the air at this time of year back home in the Okanagan. It's refreshing and envigorating! There are so many things I don't miss about home but it's little things that seem insignificant that mean the most to me when I come back and visit. The smell of the air, the scenery, mom-made food (somehow it always tastes better when someone else does the cooking!), a bigger bed to sleep in, my bright blue and yellow lava lamp.......

1 reply | Archive link


Unmet expectations

February 10, 2008 11:48

Like a butterfly, free and unrestrained,
Dancing amongst the gleaming rays.
Light promises a new day
With expectations yet unmet

Storms approach, the dancing stops
Slowly engulfing, cornering
Caged, intimidated, fearful
Expectations still unmet

Courage plays absent
Wings beat hard and fruitless
Blurred vision, he's blinded
Night or day?

The struggle continues
He's stopped trying to win
Deflated and worn
Unpenetrable fog surrounds him

He lay with tattered wings
His battle in vain
Hope has escaped
Smothered like a candle in a dark room.

Sleepless, the light appears
A tiny glimmer, twinkling
He picks himself up
Could it be?

Surrounded by light
He's blinded anew
It's not the dark this time
This time.

The fog has thinned
The world seems foreign again
But the fleeting rays warm his face
Expectations still unmet?

Fresh and new
He feels weary but satisfied
Still wanting to speak but cant
His expectations still unmet.

A new day emerges
New beginnings, new endings
In his silence
He says it all.

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