Free. Free at last from these bonds of daylight. The shadows were growing in the spaces. Blending into less defined shapes. Becoming unity. The peace... She ran. Could she never stop? She just kept running. Counting on her speed to keep them from catching on. Partial existence. ----- This is a letter to no one. No one and everyone. Can you gather the shreds of me, gather them up into your arms? Carry these pieces of my puzzled frame Take me to the mending middle distance. That space, precious and undefined. The space between the words you and I. That space where I find divinity, A drowning pool of peace. Of everything I am and would be. Of all of you. All of me. ---- When you're young, the world is a never ending circus. A place of wonder and color. Of life, light and excitement. When bubbles you create from the very breath in your lungs shimmer and then expand that tiny life to the very brink, just to burst with that effusive Pop! Giggles, squeals and jumping are an everyday occurrence. Life is there just for you to absorb in all it's wonders. It's not the same when you're older. It becomes more and more difficult to see the sun through the clouds. It's harder to see that the rain is fun. That the clouds have shapes and smiles. That your footprints in the sand squelch like the sounds of straws in milkshakes. When do we lose our excitement for the little things? When is that defining moment where life becomes hard and cold? Why is it so hard to get back? Like wading through quicksand just to reach the end and find a swamp. ----- Get up! Get out and into that brutal sun. That saucy dominatrix, blinding and burning. She's so addictive. Attractive in sharp relief against the sand You and those bare toes. Running to and fro and always away into the sun. Smiling, though I may not see Laughing though I cannot hear those dulcet tones you exude in your exuberance. And I, awaiting your pleasure, await your return and the feel of your strong hand slipping into and around mine, Pulling me onward into that sun. That bold and beautiful Sun. ----- I love words. The shapes they take, the sounds they make. Words of all forms and inflections. They can embody so much with so little. Say everything in one syllable. The way they look before you and even after you're gone. They seem to have a life of their own. Though we may create them, they grow and evolve. They become their own. Like the children we create, words are as ever growing. Even after they have died on the lips, they say so much. Even in their absence, a shadow of their existence is still felt. Is seen, even. Evolution of feeling. From emotion to thought to breath. We constantly create. Words... Those little big words.