a storm grew inside my heart the day our voices intertwined
and made stars fall from the sky.
the storm planted its roots inside my heart, but i mistook
the thunder for heartbeats and the tornado for a spring breeze
and so it grew, and grew, and grew
– excerpt from wip novel “better to have loved”
i stepped on a puddle and drowned
and my head is underwater and i’m looking around
and all i hear are familiar sounds of wind chimes and children so
i sing and pretty bubbles come out of my mouth
please don’t leave me. i’m so scared.
silly child. i’ll still be here. we’re all always going to be here.
what do you mean?
answer me this. what do you think we’re made of?
…i don’t know… skin and bones?
haha. that’s just our temporary container. something to hold what we all really are.
and what is that?
that’s what we are all made of. energy. and do you know something about energy?
i know nothing about anything.
energy can never be destroyed.
then… where do we go when we’re… gone?
well. energy never disappears. it only transforms.
yes. changes form. sometimes, we’re skin and bones. sometimes, we’re balls of air. sometimes, we’re a spring breeze. but we’re still together. all of us. in this one, giant universe. that’s constantly transforming.
but… how can i see you again? how can i talk to you again?
you don’t have to worry about little things like that. the world is so much bigger than all of these little things. what matters is that we are not gone. we are never gone. we’ve simply changed. but we’re all, always together. every little thing that you see. we’re all part of one big, everlasting, ever-transforming, infinity.
including me. including you. us. we are infinity.
and i think one of the most beautiful things just might be
spring breezes in the summer
warm breezes in the winter
serendipitous surprises just because
just because you are who you are
and, love, this is all you ever needed to hear
orange lullabies and bedtime stories we still hold dear
and the sparrow chirps back when its babies call
the flowers dance even as the nights they fall
because someone out there just maybe, really knows
how this story was meant to go, yet
that doesn’t stop us from hoping, holding, making wishes
turning just any other dandelion from weed to wings as
the spring breeze blows even as far north as we are.
and ice-cream and stickers that glow in the dark
and animal hats and cake and wandering stars
still do sing, truly. so he takes her hand, truly.
and i think this just might be one of the most beautiful things
this life this love this everything in the everyday this
just because you are. you are.