Everything has
been beautifully dilapidated in my life, and adorably so, in the manner of a wise
wrinkled heart. I love this feeling of breathing in the smell of old souvenirs,
those same ones which used to hurt but now comfort me.
At a bend in the
road, a bunch of trees will emerge and behind them, the moonlight. My soul will
decide to stop and wait for yours right there in the middle of this beautiful
nowhere, knowing it will come along...eventually. It is a quiet road, as peaceful and protective as a shelter, one which leads to serenity and evokes respect
as I tread upon its path.
Just like in the deepest days of my childhood,
marvelous shadows will dance under the moonlight. The night may keep in reserve
its most intimate secrets but I have mine too. If my younger years have witnessed me wandering hopelessly at times, now that I am slowly aging, a carpet of green foam suddenly emerges out of nowhere to welcome my bold steps. Isn't it amazing how a bleaching life can speak such a wondrous language?
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