Archive for June, 2012

Starlight Tears

Saturday, June 9th, 2012

The sun set earlier, leaving orange sherbet streaks in the cerulean-blue sky.  It was almost 8:00 PM, the tilt of the Earth inclining the northern hemisphere toward the sun; it was already dark south of the equator.  The same sun, the same time of day, but half a world away was not warm and summerlike with late evening sun, but already cold and dark. 

So many things break my heart constantly.  It is not a complaint.  The salt of tears is an essential flavor to accompany the banquet of living.  And sometimes I get bitter about it, as if it were not invited, as if I did not seek to squeeze the precious emotion from each and every moment, as if I did not embrace the heartbreak with all the verve and gusto of a passionate lover.  As if I did not love to cry. 

On this longitudinal slice of the Earth, it is now dark in both places, North and South of the equator. The night unifies–briefly–the American continents under softly starlit skies, twinkling tears in the eyes of heaven.


Saturday, June 9th, 2012

Another year has passed.  Another decade has passed, another generation has passed.  Another life. 

Forgive my fumbling efforts to make something significant happen, before it is over.  Be patient with my uninformed anxiety that pretends all of it matters, my tension as the end approaches–even if it is not near, it approaches.  Be tolerant of me, please. 

I only wanted to …well, I guess I never really had a plan.  I never thought this life through.  But I knew beauty.  I knew love–though often from a distance.  I knew you. 

And now it comes time to make some sense of it all; time to make an attempt, at least, to reach for an anchor point; time to find a handhold in this tumultuous passage, or perhaps only a hand to hold.  It is not as if this is the end.  It’s not as if there even is an end.  But there are turning points, not actual events neccessarily, more like convulsions in a life, birthing moments in which something else comes to exist.  An effort that arises from the dust of complacency, a spasm resulting from the immobility of a life unlived. 

Sometimes, just pretending something significant is happening can be enough.