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The writing challengers are still going strong, wanted to lump all mine together so I could find them easily....
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Always in your field of vision
A safe haven on a rainy day
But life sneaks up past
turning your eyes away
Seasons later you stumble
And find your seat already taken
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years splitting strings
rusted ships made doomed
something grand, thrown
a mess of hearts tinkering
in the middle of nowhere
old mistakes a memory
improving the original
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Charred timber crumbles in my hands
My way here now drowned in murky darkness
Smudges of charcoal begin to disappear
Their initial resistance quickly yielding
Much like those quickly dying flames
Anger controlling in haste
But the bridge, I've already burned
And left myself on this side alone
to wish my way safely back.
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It was only supposed to be a dream. There's no way those vibrant clouds could ever be seen in real life. The water that looked as if God's palette of color had gotten muddled from the tears of weeping angels felt squishy solid underfoot, so that it was natural to follow the rising steps. In the eerie silent wind, the only voices were those instead my head. Apparently, I had a choice to make, and I could only choose once. The half submerged aged bottle containing rolled parchment. Supposedly on that parchment were all the answers to questions I'd never been able to find answers to. Only problem was, once you reached the steps the first time, if you left, the water owned you. So while I would have all the answers, I'd be essentially frozen forever with that knowledge. My other choice was to take hold of that door, the dark cherry wood and that gold embossed handle. A peek through the door just showed more endless water, but supposedly once you actually stepped through that door, you were free. Free from what, the voice didn't say. I'm not quite sure what I believe. I mean, my eyes work fine, I don't see any magical could dancing on the other side of the door to convince me of this speculated power. And it's always nice to have the answers. But what good are answers if you can't do anything about what you know? And something tells me that like the squishy water, this place isn't all that meets the eye. And something's caught my eye, just on the other side of the door. I can't pick out what it is without stepping entirely through the door. A hand on the knob, and an outstretched hand reaching towards the bottle. I should have known there'd be no way to reach both at the same time. *Sigh* If I don't choose, I can just open my eyes, and the dream's all over. But my eyes are open. Odd. Don't even know exactly how I got here anyhow. But that little light is shining brighter now.... I wonder what I'm supposed to be "free" from. Only one way to find out - so in I go. and I fall.....
It was a dream. That endless cacophony of unspecified songs couldn't exist in real life. But that small puddle on the floor, just by the edge of the bed. The light catching that water makes it seem pink and green and blue, all together. No, it can't be.
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Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna
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