All that Saves

A warm wind blows
Her warm blonde hair
Waving, washing
If you dare
A wave that washes
Over me
A pale black night
A memory
A scent that makes it
All come back
A warmth that crushes
Tit-for-tat
A surge that brushes
‘Gainst her mind
That rushes through
The sands of time
And in that moment
Stillness reigns
A Savior’s love
Is all that saves

Into Pieces

This is my heart

As it tears into pieces

All of my strength

All of my weakness

All that I’ve left

And all that’s behind

Is missing and mangled

And tangled inside

Everything’s broken

Yet everything’s whole

Things that I feel

That you’ll never know

A heartache so sweet

And I don’t have a reason

But this is my heart

As it tears into pieces

City Lights

The stars are so pretty right now. I can hardly see them through the city lights, but there they are: sparkling like bits of glitter on midnight-black construction paper.

Remember when life was simpler? When all we had to do was look up, make a wish, and somehow we knew – we believed – it would come true?

I’ve been sitting on a bench at this bus stop, doing a little stargazing, and it occurred to me: What if I just hopped on the next bus? Just…went, no matter where it was going? I know this isn’t “allowed.” It can’t be because, for heaven’s sake, it’s a weeknight and I have responsibilities.

But what if I did it, anyway? What would happen? Would it disrupt the space-time continuum? Would the world as we know it come to an end?

I doubt it. In fact, I’m pretty sure civilization would carry on, regardless of what I did or didn’t do tonight; and, ya’ know, I really am tempted to find out the hard way where this next bus leads…

I Taste Spring

I miss traveling. I miss the rush of the airport, the excitement of getting my passport stamped, of exploring new places and reacquainting myself with old haunts.

Most of all, I miss the beautiful, wonderful people in those countries. I miss them a lot.

When I came across this writerly musing of mine, I decided to share it. Because even though I wrote it while standing on the cusp of autumn, and even though it’s about one specific country I longed to see again (Croatia), it was inspired by my heart to travel during a time, a season, when I simply couldn’t. Just like now.

I taste spring.

Weird, isn’t it? Being that fall is right around the corner? Maybe it’s the humidity, kissing my skin as a cool breeze rustles my hair. Maybe it’s this milky-looking sky with its soft gray clouds that whisper promises of rain to come.

Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I just want it to be spring so badly that my imagination has overloaded my senses and tricked me into believing I’m in a different season. Because that’s what I want more than anything: for it to be May, for my bag to be packed, and for my heart to be pounding to the roar of a jet engine.

My tongue is thick with the sweet tang of travel. I long for the anticipation of departure…and arrival. I crave the rush I’ll get when I behold the Adriatic Sea with my own eyes, rather than through a computer screen. I ache to experience – to feel – the buzz of Diocletian’s Palace while I dance to the melody of Slavic voices around me.

I taste spring. I’m hungry for it, and it’s not coming fast enough.

Midnight in Paris

Stillness, like a heavy cloak, stretches around me. Hugging myself, I amble toward the parking lot. My ears detect the sound of rushing water. A fountain sits at the center of the plaza.

lit pathway
Lamp Unto My Feet

I pause, listening. Watching. Lights reflect off the glossy streams cascading through the stone fountain. This place is like a dreamscape, a sweet little bubble I’ve fallen into for a short time.

Too short, I think to myself.

nightshot
Late-night stroll, after a late-night movie

Sighing, I climb the cement stairs that lead to my inevitable reality. The sound of the fountain fades, and the rush of cars speeding along a freeway replaces the dreamy little world I’m leaving behind. The wind kicks up, nestling into the folds of my clothes….

marquee

And then I’m back. In my car. Heading home. My little excursion was nice while it lasted.

-Written August 17, 2011
after seeing Midnight in Paris