In the end.

What are you thinking she asks?

There is no answer. Only the silence that she has now come to know.

What happened to all the words?

It seems they were ripped violently from this plane

only to be absorbed by black matter that will never let them go.

Where is the laughter? Why has it died away? Were there no watering holes to fuel it’s liquid needs?

What of the tears?

They have dried and formed small hills of salt on the plains of her existence.

Where is the proof of lovely times past?

It has disappeared like invisible ink.  Only to be seen again when acidic juice falls upon the pages. Revealing what was but is no longer.

What of the heart?

It wills upon itself scar tissue, in the hope of covering open wounds.

But it wasn’t all bad. Right?

 

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Questions …

Would it be so wrong, if thoughts of me brought you to your knees?

What would it hurt, if my lips were your savior?

Would the world stop spinning on its axis, if the soft sweetness of my skin was your comfort?

Do you believe that my fingertips, trailing across your cheeks, could bring you peace?

Will you let me in?

Morning bits …

The coffee is strong and bitter and helps to bring me to life.

It’s one of those mornings where all I want to do is sit quietly and contemplate what ‘it’ all means.

Such as …

When the birds sing are they truly singing? Or speaking in a complex language we simply can’t understand?

When you wish upon a star does your dream really come true?

If you think too long about the texture of cottage cheese does eating it become unappealing?

Why must bananas lose their green ripeness?

Am I the only person who can only eat them when they are perfect and without a spot?

Is anyone else thinking the same thing as me at this very moment?

If a cricket from the East Coast found its way West, would the Western Crickets make fun of it because of its accent?

Is that a grey hair I see?

Do I have time today to go to the salon and become a red-head (sans the grey)?

If I go ‘red’ will I look cheap and be taken for a floozy?

Do little hands mean anything?

When the clock ticks can you feel the time disappear?

Will you miss it?

When I say “Bibbity Bobbity Boo” why does it make me smile?

Does magic truly exist? Or is it something we choose to believe so that life isn’t dull?

Is the Winter really cold for those with no warm memories?

Why do I sing songs about nothing?

Will I touch someone’s life today?

Do you know?

Questions of a memory …

What is it exactly that makes us memorable?

Is it the tenor of voice?

The sparkle of our eyes?

The feeling of  ones touch upon another’s skin?

Or soft laughter in the dark?

I suppose there are innumerable reasons why one might be remembered.

But do you ever wonder what you leave behind?

Is it enough?

Does it  even matter?

Or is the fact that you mingled soulfully with another sufficient?

Will we ever know?

 

Knowing …

Do you ever wonder if our souls know?

Do they know the ways of the universe?

Is the mystery of life locked away in a secret compartment known only to our subconscious selves?

Are our lives predestined or does free will overpower and allow us to change the course that has been set?

When we sleep do we let go?

Are we tethered to this plane yet allowed to float in other dimensions?

Are our dreams reality?

Memories of our past and the moments we experience while we drift in the ether?

Is love tangible?

Can you touch it?

Breathe it?

Feel it with your fingertips?

Does the air hold emotion?

When we cry do our tears water a tiny secret garden beneath our feet?

When we sigh, are we exhaling our restless life force and inhaling molecules that are more peaceful?

If we’re very still can we feel the earth rotating on its axis?

Does ascension hurt?

Are kisses communication?

Do you know?

Day of Birth …

Birthdays fill me with dread.

Existential angst, if you will.

A few questions come to mind:

Have  I accomplished any major goals? 

Am I further along now than I was a year ago? 

Is that a wrinkle forming in the corner of my eye?

Have I built up my karmic coins? 

Why haven’t  I fulfilled my destiny? The one I once knew about when the world was sparkly and brand new on the day of my birth. 

Have I lessened my carbon foot print? 

Did I contribute anything to the world? Beauty? Peace? 

Will I find what I’m looking for?  Do I even know what that is?

When did ballerina jewelry boxes become silly for an adult woman? 

Why can’t I remember ‘that’ feeling? The one of  utter joy and bliss when blowing out birthday candles on a pink iced cake. 

Will I be loved for who I am now and not for what I might become? 

Will ‘ROC’ skin products always be around? Or will I simply get lucky and find I have my Swedish grandmother’s ‘good’ genes? 

Why?

Where?

When? 

How?

5 days and counting …

In The Still Of The Night …

It’s finally quiet.

Oh how I love nights silence.  The pure, undiluted beauty of the universe shines through when the sky is deep black and the stars are bright. 

My mind wanders and wonders …

Why are we here?

What is desire?

Is the answer to life’s questions buried deep within our subconscious?

Why is a peach sweet and a lemon sour?

Can we exist on a daily basis without knowing exactly what it is that we need? 

Will we be shunned if we share our deepest thoughts and ideas?

When doves coo are they whispering I love you?

Am I brave enough to really find out?

If you wear your heart on your sleeve will it catch a cold?

Are kisses a form of communication?

In the end will it have all been worth it?

What will I be remembered for?

Have I made a difference?

Why don’t doctors give out lolly pops to adults?

And the beat goes on …