Tag Archives: flight

On that day

IMG_2390One day we’ll walk out into the sun again and we’ll stand together like we did before. It’ll be a peaceful, bright early morning. The midday sun will not burn us as we talk of love and dreams. You’ll speak like you did before, and I’ll smile like I did before, and the little kids running around will chase the bubbles of fantastic dreams that come out of your lips and giggle when they pop them and the colors splash on them.

On that day there will be no more tears. I won’t cry for you again, nor will I see those little pearls at the corner of your eyes as you close them in pain. There will be no place for pain anymore. There will only be us and we will be grand. We will never talk of hopelessness again. We will only talk about the small and simple things we will do, and no one will ever think they are grand. But to you and I, they’ll be ivory towers we climb to court the stars and befriend the comets.

We will smile at the passersby who will look at us, smile back and never recognize us. But we won’t really care if they know us or not. The only thing I’ll care about is you next to me my friend, and how we laugh as we catch broken bits of chatter from others out on the square to enjoy the sun. No one will ever turn their heads down in fear again, never again my friend. We will raise our heads and scream our thoughts out and the elements will bow down to our wills.

On that afternoon we will bring down all the walls. For the first time ever, we’ll finally see each other for what we all truly are – balls of blinding potential just waiting to unwind. We’ll all unwind and tangle and untangle and flip over into a maddening display of color as we trade bits and become something larger than the sum of us all. It would be a good day for all my friend. There will only ever be love for each other. It will guide all our actions and in it we will finally find deliverance from centuries of frustrated line drawing to mark our mental and physical territories.

We’ll dream into each other and become formless, we won’t care what we look like or how others see us anymore. We’ll be endless thoughts and float on an endless sea of creativity where we will be the gentle trickle and the raging storm. The destruction they bring will have no place among us. We will only ever build dream upon dream, never believing there will ever be a ceiling – and if there is one we will just burst through it and build on as we become limitless. We will finally be us. Just us. Not them or their thoughts or their demands. On that afternoon we’ll walk hand in hand, my friend, and we will be free. And only then will we know what it really feels like.

The setting sun will smile at us for all we are. We will finally become what we were born to be after hundreds of years of struggle to find our place. In that orange-red hue we will splash water at each other in the fountains of youth. We will share our tales with the pebbles and the dust for a fleeting moment before they go and spread them across the earth. For all will wait to hear of us my friend. And the sun will smile at the kids hopping through the grass where we once spilled our blood and be grateful to have seen us on that one day.

On that night, we will lay back under a sparkling night where the full moon will never set. We will defy time itself, for that day will not end, nor shall we wake up to what once was again. It will be eternal and so will the people with us. We’ll sit in a circle and hold hands as we make up songs of our glory on a night much darker than this one. We will sing of love, of our hope and for the ones we lost along the long winding road. We will sing in peace, we will sing and our voices will not be heavy with the burden that was forced on us.

On that night, it will all be ok again. It will all be worthwhile and we will know it. And we will be together my friend. We will not be stories in a dusty book or pictures on a fading billboard. We will just be us, and the world will be us.

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Fly a kite

Courtesy of poissantfamily

I just wanted to fly a kite.

I wasn’t asking for too much. I had a beautiful kite and it was in my hand. It was right there along all the dreams and hopes of a younger me. I just wanted to run across the vast emptiness, throw it high in the air and watch myself become a giant through it.

I wanted to touch all those places I couldn’t because I was so small, even though I was born to rule them. After all, there’s a reason why I never quite managed to grow up. There’s a reason why every single time I was cornered, I ran away. I had to fly the kite because I had to get a touch of that heavenly bless of leaving everything behind just for a while.

I wanted to write a million poems that I fell in love with for fleeting seconds. I wanted to tell stories that live in the prison of my mind and bang against my skull like madmen waiting to make their escape so they may dance in the undercurrents of the flowing spring. I wanted to juggle toothbrushes in a circus and kiss a bird’s beak behind the bushes. I wanted to make critters cry at the songs I write when I am laying in the tall unkempt grass of the dying garden. I wanted to get bit by a spider because, you know, it just might work.

I just wanted to fly a kite.

It could have solved everything – everything in the world. It could have made sense of the morning insanity and made peace with the maddening nights. It would have been my way out of mediocrity and into the true greatness I’ve striven for since I started looking at the stars.

Except it wouldn’t fly. Just when the wind was picking up speed, just when I was starting to run fast enough, just as my feet started to lift off the ground, it plunged straight to the leathery ground. It quickly shattered all those dreams of duality; of being man and god, of being part of the bigger scheme of things while also drawing it.

It all started slipping through my hands and all that I was left with was the elusive rain; wetting my hair and wetting the kite. Grounding us forever in the muddy remnants of what we sought to leave.

Survival struggles here, greatness dies here, and everything in between never really existed.

Flicker

It’s not the darkness that scares me. I can learn to make my peace with that just like I made peace with the light before. It’s not the thought of an endlessly stretching black pearl of an existence that scares me. I have learned to deal with stuff before, there’s nothing I couldn’t handle there.

What scares me is that moment when the light starts to flicker. It is then when I start glimpsing the lurking figures at the far sides, just barely out of my sight but slowly heaving in the dark. The light flickers again and they move ever so closely, ever just out of reach, menacing me with their sightless stares.

It is right there on the edge that my fear takes hold of me. There’s no reason to be scared, says the tiny voice that’s always besides me, but I don’t listen to it. I can’t listen to it. The truth is, the light is flickering, heaving it’s final sighs before it goes off – the start of that eternal morbid storm of teary eyes streaming with watery makeup.

And they move ever closer, with their ruby eyes and deathly tentacles, to claim their prize. It’s been light for too long after all, and I have done my share of terrible things. My dreams were never mine to keep, they were just there to remind me I’m still human.

There’s nothing proud about me when the light flickers again, almost dying out but coming blinking back for one more go. Nothing proud there at all. How long has it been since the lights were bright anyways? How long since the shapes weren’t distorted? How long till it all ceases to make sense, and starts to make sense?

The lights heave one more time, it smiles sadly at me. I tried, it says, I tried for as long as I was given.

I stand, a man, and the flickering stops.