Remember,
remember, the 15th of November.
The
freezing wind is no longer blowing.
Flowers are
blossoming.
The sun is
rising.
The summer
is marching closer.
Amidst the fabulousness,
I am sitting on my very (temporary, perhaps) place, trying and make some sense
out of this pure, utter madness.
So much
information to play with and little sense of proper organization. And very
sparse visits to this small bit of a personal space.
While I get
my cards sorted, the various shades of the spring are colouring the streets.
The
blooming roses, the scarlet violets, all shining on the most vivid and
exploding moment of their short lifespan.
The lapacho
flowers, however, are fallen to the ground, with a darkened, dull yellow tone.
I am sorry for having to let go of your hand, the falling leaves and petals said,
filling for my silence, but unable to mirror my heartfelt numbness.
Take a
breath in. Somebody in Kansas City still loves you.
And I keep
striving.
So as to
move forward to what I breathe and live as being my most enduring dream.
So as to
run into proclaiming myself what I foremost ought to be.
The
Kingdom. The Empire. The People's
Republic.
_______
This has also been the 100th post on
this blog. Thank you for all these amazing some 5 years.
May more and more 5 years take place. May more 100
posts be written on and on.
May I have thy company for as long as it is
sweet.
Have an amazing
weekend, dear reader.
xx
