Thursday, December 13, 2012

Ancient History

By request it is time to post another musing.


         Ancient history you and I
Destined to repeat ourselves
Old mistakes return to haunt us
No mystery to follow.

         A long time ago you told me your secrets
I never told you mine
You whispered into my heart
And stole my soul  

No future history will we make
No time to mend the yesterday

You call me now with aged words
I continue to fall over again
As if yesterday were today
Only you leave me in the mist of memories

The past has returned to destroy us
I should have never remembered

          And you should have never told me
Now I go into the shadows of the night.

          No future history will we make
No time to mend the yesterday

You are left with brittle memories
Alone in a past returned
Only an illusion of what could have been
Listening for a voice never to be heard.

Standing in the doorway
A breeze whispered your name
My heart ached for you
Knowing that you would never come again.

          No future history will we make
No time to mend the yesterday

Ancient history you and I
A passion lost
Gently we fade away
Leaving our memory in the wind.                 

© LAL 2016

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Live or float?

     Life came easily. She was like the Mississippi, long, deep, still and powerful. On the surface, she lived life with carefree abandon, yet like the river; she either rolled around the obstacle or rushed over it. She wasn’t a truly lost soul but one without direction. It really was never hard, only inconvenient. Looking out, she often pondered what would become of her in the surreal life she created. But she knew it wasn’t truly surreal, she was just lost or too lazy to change it. She resisted the change that was inevitable. She either chose to ignore it or charged it like a ram. She preferred to ignore it.

     Like time, change is a continuum always moving forward. Change may be slowed or halted for a while but like time it will move on. Change may take eons or as quickly as a blink of an eye to happen but it will continue to evolve. She hated change, especially when she could not control change. It interfered with her pattern in life, unbalanced her sense of being. The only good change was the one she created; the one she could mold and control. She liked control. She like the freedom it brought. The juxtaposition to her control is that it controlled her, boxed her in and she became stagnant. She ignored it. She floated on her inner tube down the spring run in life.
     The South, the summers are hot, humid and sweltering. Reality to her was like the hot southern days of summer, too much heat. Being grown up was work which caused too much heat. Too much heat. Cool springs and daydreaming was not work, it was the pleasure of existing. Why would anyone want to endure that heat? She pondered. She floated. She daydreamed. She was lost.

     She had a choice. Live or float? Daydream or steer her destiny? Change was upon her and it was hers to control. Was she like the Mississippi and had the power to endure the heat. Would she choose to fortify herself for the endeavors of life? Floating down the spring run only moves in one direction, was this the only direction she wanted? She pondered. 

And then she awoke.

This is a piece I have putzing with for awhile and decided to throw it out there. The point is to make you question and to paint a picture for you. I hope I have succeed in some way. Please leave some feedback, as it only helps me. Thanks!! 
© LAL 2016