After 22.

 That first kiss tasted

Like wide-eyed surprise

Like sun-warmed musk and the utter fear

Of being discovered... as Romeo and Juliet's Theme

Rose and soared in your ears

How fleeting 

And unimportant that memory feels now

Like a floating feather

Pushed down from the sky

By a sudden downpour

Now, 

Under a puddle of mud

It swims

Awakenings.

Life decided to shake things up a bit.

It said my waters have been still for far too long.

It told me, "I am not just all Quiet and Peace. 

I am a touch of Crazy and a touch of Tough, too."

Sometimes, you have to have strong winds blow through your land.

To remind you that, when summoned, the warrior inside of you is still there.

Morning Walk.

Today, I thought, "I'd like to be a tree... this tree."

To merge my body with its trunk.

To plant my feet, intertwined, with its roots.

To raise my arms and head with its sky-reaching branches.

To just exist without the weight of human worries and frailties.

...

For now, I will weep.

I will allow myself this fear to wash over me like rain - for now.

And then, I will rise and conquer it - stand fearlessly and just be.

Those Essential, Ever-Transient Breaths In Between.

Now that bush has tiny feet going around it as well.

[Lucky.]

I get to relive my childhood dreams and imaginings.:)

Flat surfaces fool you
No marks
Cool and uncomplicated-looking things
Not one visible crack
Not a single, faint tremor

Ancient earthquakes

There are no fingerprints here
No traces of clenched fists
Yelled-out voices
Never transcribed
Pristine vastness of white that fools you

Yes... memories are sly creatures.

How Long Has It Been?

Too long... but time is relative here.

Sensation of tremors in my arms
My hands feel like two phantoms
My elbows absent
My shoulders floating somewhere else

And I only feel my back pressed against the wall

Locks of hair- like twisted shoelaces
Form patterns on my scalp
The companions of idle fingertips
Weaving idleness into forms of creations

Six years of silence in a six-minute full circle.

A Great Many Things...

... await our meeting.

Preparations are being made. And time always seems slow and long in that terminal.