Merely Mine
April 14th, 2010
Good evening.
It’s beautiful right now. The air heavy with impending darkness as the sun just beyond my sight begins to set. It’s still light out but it’s that strange mix of night and day when the kitties become alert and most humans are just growing tired. The world clock winding down on one side and up on another, leaving me pleasantly out of sync to witness the merge.
The grass is cool but not damp. The sky all one color, fading from one shade to the next as easily as watercolors on a canvas. A few lone birds peck the ground, picking at what remains of an earlier lunch before nesting, once more, in our roof.
The cat in my lap, warm with clover bright eyes, is telling me one thing. A promise spoken in the silence of his presence: The words will come easily tonight.
They will flow like thin paint tilted along the fine edge of gravity, covering all within reach in patterns, swirls, and splatters of predictable unpredictability. More than bright and dark they will whisper screams of the mute grays between. Cloying, tinting, and twisting what lies beyond the mirror and it’s reflection…
Words.
They are merely words.
Letters and syllable strung together haphazardly like rain tossing in the wind, occasionally illuminated by the flash of lightning and punctuated with thunder. They might rumble and roar, rattling windows, or hiss like droplets hitting the puddle. Meaningless save for the beauty in the nature of it… but for every drop the hits the puddle there is a ring of happenstance that follows soon after and for ever window that shakes there is a child hiding beneath the covers.
Yes. They are words.
Merely words.
Until they are used to say something of importance.
Then they are my words.
Lovely post :)
Thank you. :)