Untitled -- 10.13.2004

How does he rise above the morning mist to catch the last glimmering lights of dawn,

The last light that creates no shadows, yet brightens a path in reds, oranges, and yellows?

And upon brightening these paths, how does he know which one he seeks?

For he looks back and shudders at what he sees, and by the time he realizes he has lingered too long, the sun rises higher in the sky and creates a shadow.

He is now living in the shadow of his past

So he waits...

He waits until the morning mist returns, fearful of drifting to a sleep which will encompass him and send away the dawn

And with that fear he drifts...

He drifts into a slumber with swirls of images and hidden messages he tries to understand, yet fails to first recognize...

In his shadow he awakens, drenched in the salt of sweat and tears, drenched in the frustration of not knowing, drenched in the anger of lying in his shadow once again.

So he sleeps on, giving his body the permission to rest, thinking 'the dawn has already passed',

His body rests, but his heart beats faster, and his soul cries for freedom, a freedom it cannot even begin to search for and find, a freedom, it does not know, from what

In his sub-consciouss mind he is searching for the path that will guide him away from his un-desired past and into a new world where pain is unknown, saddness is not felt, and the idea of foreverness lives

Yet there is a death, in this dream, that he fears, one that will force him past the innocence he forever seeks to keep and into the weary yet clear world of the finite.

He is blinded by the death and his fear that he fails to see the significance of the image, which represents his transition, the diversion of his past path, and the image is his mind's dispute.

But he is blinded, and so in his unseeing mind, heart, body, and soul there is fear and misunderstanding, which leaks through the pores of his body to awaken him in a pool of sweat and tears once again,

He awakens having slept through the mist of three dawns more,

He no longer looks back at his paths once chosen, nor does he look forward at the paths layed out before him.

His lids close, yet he does not sleep. He expels his breath and with it expels the fear, frustration, and worry that now pollutes the air around him.

He feels a breeze and knows it has been sent to wipe the slate clean.

He is drained, worn out from it all, and it shows...

Yet he continues to breathe in, then out, living just with what he has now: fresh air from which he has to breathe and fill his lungs.

Quietly the mist rises, and the dawn approaches, and he stands...

He walks as he continues letting his lungs gulp in the air it hungers for.

In his mind, there is but the thought of standing tall, and in his soul there is but the yearning to grasp (grasp what there lies no criteria) and in his heart there is but the prospect of pumping blood.

He looks, and now he sees, no longer blinded by his fear for even if he were to contemplate once again, he is too drained.

He walks on along the path and realizes he sees the image from his dream standing, smiling, waiting.  

The 'dead' lives, and is here to guide him for she knew of his frightful dreams, but only dimly.

Only when she saw the pool of sweat and tears did she understand the fear,

Yet the unspoken words hurt, for they expressed the fear, loss, and frustration she yearned to comfort, yearned to guide.

Together they walked the path into a second chance.

A second chance to build strong what they had and still have...

A second chance to accept the transitions with grace, for both of them.

All the while the other lingered, she was watching, willing, hoping, but helpless.

She cared too much, and so couldn't see clearly

Yet with every expulsion of his newly breathed air, so she breathed, and with every clear view that came to his eyes, so she saw...

And from this day forward she lives as he lives: with appreciation for the now, rememberance of what was before, but thoughts on only today.

She will forever continue to learn from him, the one who also opened her eyes to not only look, but see...

And for that she will forever be thankful.

View fo0l4u's Full Portfolio