Ocean Wide, Canyon Deep
He's a light hanging on the lines of galaxies above. Some nights he's yellow, other nights blue. He's been there for as long as I can imagine, and all I have to do is look up. There's millions that look just like him but there's something different about his gleam, the way he shines - just a little bit brighter than those around. Even when he's light years away, I can see his movement; charting his path across the universe.
He used to tell me how the stars called out to him. How they told stories of wonder and magic waiting to be found.
So, I let him go.
Tonight, he travels ever so gently, dancing his way through asteroids, comets, moons and planets.
And he's trying to reach me.
I am a floating mess of grey and white, there are many, many others just like me. And we all live up here, just between emerald green and azure blue, we provide those below with shade, raindrops and lonely hours thinking about the one they loved as they listen to our tears hit their windowsill. That's one thing we share in common with them, while their tears don't create hurricanes and downpours, ours do. It's because we're in waiting. Sometimes the waiting becomes unbearable and we lighten ourselves by decorating their sidewalks and empty parking lots with puddles, tiny oceans.
But tonight, across the wonderful heavens above, he is there.
I lift myself and he's headed straight towards me.
Will he remember my fragility? The way I break into pieces at his touch? Or has he already forgotten me?
Perhaps he's headed for another, and I'm just in the way.
But the sun will rise in the morning and my tears will once again grow heavy. But soon enough, he will be here, and nothing but the glow in his eyes will matter.
And as he arrives, I take his hand.
But this time, I do not break into pieces.
I follow him as he leads me upwards, to unknown places and foreign feelings; painting the vast empty space above, filling it with the colour we've found. For an eternity, I forget how it feels to be grey.
And then he sets me down.
Today, the rain is the melody of a soft ballad, a tune of someone waiting for their love to return.
https://youtu.be/BzjIoRFB8r0
AMDG
He used to tell me how the stars called out to him. How they told stories of wonder and magic waiting to be found.So, I let him go.
Tonight, he travels ever so gently, dancing his way through asteroids, comets, moons and planets.
And he's trying to reach me.
I am a floating mess of grey and white, there are many, many others just like me. And we all live up here, just between emerald green and azure blue, we provide those below with shade, raindrops and lonely hours thinking about the one they loved as they listen to our tears hit their windowsill. That's one thing we share in common with them, while their tears don't create hurricanes and downpours, ours do. It's because we're in waiting. Sometimes the waiting becomes unbearable and we lighten ourselves by decorating their sidewalks and empty parking lots with puddles, tiny oceans.
But tonight, across the wonderful heavens above, he is there.
I lift myself and he's headed straight towards me.
Will he remember my fragility? The way I break into pieces at his touch? Or has he already forgotten me?
Perhaps he's headed for another, and I'm just in the way.
But the sun will rise in the morning and my tears will once again grow heavy. But soon enough, he will be here, and nothing but the glow in his eyes will matter.
And as he arrives, I take his hand.
But this time, I do not break into pieces.
I follow him as he leads me upwards, to unknown places and foreign feelings; painting the vast empty space above, filling it with the colour we've found. For an eternity, I forget how it feels to be grey.
And then he sets me down.
Today, the rain is the melody of a soft ballad, a tune of someone waiting for their love to return.
https://youtu.be/BzjIoRFB8r0
AMDG
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