Awakened

Like a slight breeze blowing fog over the bay, thoughts of you come in...

They awaken me from a deep sleep and try as I might, they do not leave, but linger

There is no comfort in these thoughts, just a sadness that weighs on me, a heavy quilt of patchwork memories.

In the end, the writing helps more than anything... It's not conversation, but the words need saying, the mind needs to share so that once again I'm able to rest.... But daily you're there, like an incredible sweetness on the very end of my tongue... And in the silent midnight pitch, tears well-up and fall.

Dating myself

I think it was my daughter, Amanda who told me about this: Dating Myself.

I'm going to give this a whirl. Dinners are half price, movie tickets as well, I get my own humor - and will even sometimes laugh at myself (though usually when recovering from something dumb), and in the morning will wake-up to a person I want to make breakfast for...  Actually, this is going to be a lot of fun :-)

Our tree

A seed was planted years ago. Watered in life storms and baked in the heat of pain, she was nurtured and grew.

Diminutive once, now a tree; tall and strong, and swaying in strife's winds, bowing in response, un-breaking - her roots deep, wide, holding onto the soil that surrounds and feeds.

The cold months now lie upon her and though appearing asleep, growth is happening in whispered tones. Do not fret, for Spring is just around the corner and again you will see blue skies and feel the warmth of the sun upon your translucent fluttering leaves.

The week

This was a long week. Long hours, long times of too much thinking about things that ought be put away. 

When tired, those thoughts pervade - barriers built by strength gone. In many ways they don't bother me - they linger for too long, perhaps, but they tell me that what was there, what is still there, was real. The intellectual part of my mind understands the reasons for the break - but my emotional side has not accepted them. And it doesn't matter that there's nothing reciprocal. 

You see, it started as a wonderful friendship. Wonderful as it allowed me to love fully without expectations. There was full acceptance with no reservations. The knowledge of her came slowly and a foundation of trust was built around that knowledge. 

Perhaps, this is what there will always be:  That I'll always adore her because of all of who she is, and was, and will be... Ill always cherish her because of what makes her, her. 

And I'm happy with that. :-)

My?

My love
My one
My heart
My soul
My only
Your eyes
Your touch
Your laugh
Your smile
Your "good morning"
Your slurp scolding
Your one
My hope
My life
My future
My present
My past
My love

My love.

Casa Mañana

Enjoying the day last weekend with the talented and hard working Juli Mohan of Mustang Productions. Fun hanging-out as she shot a story for her show, Horse Country USA. She did let me scout a couple of B-Roll shots :-)

Turn away...

Now and again, looking for anything but,
the past is found,
in photos bright and happy, vibrant, telling.
And though quickly turning from them
lest, caught in a whirlpool,
I am soon swept deep within
and in those memories drown.

Real, nothing else

Like saccharine to sugar, there is no substitute that takes your place.

For months I've tried... each time coming away empty, cold. In my mind, plastic centerpieces, where, from across the room all is tantalizing, but nearer, finding no fragrance, no bitterness, no sweetness inside, I'm again disappointed and again withdrawal wanting nothing at all.

Always, compared to the real, artificial never measures-up. It lacks everything the heart desires. Why settle for less than genuine, less than real, less than you? At least a scent, a sliver, a glance, a wisp and even a void is real. And isn't that better than fake?