Saturday, August 05, 2017

Threads of Sunshine

Sunlight filters through my windows and I wake, sleep, wake, sleep. A little spiral of life against my pillows. My dreams are haunted with a hundred voices and I'm making plans for something...


The thought is out of reach but the voices are as real as if they are in bed next to me, talking, whispering things. Voices I want to hear. 

Voices I don't want to hear. 

The last few days were full of storms both literal and metaphorical. Gloomy clouds and hard pounding ceaseless rain, like tears, thunderclaps like the beating heart, lightening, a shining moment of clarity. 

Laying on a couch in the arms of a lover, listening and watching the storms is a certain type of balm for the turmoil filling the atmospheres. 

The sun makes me think of trips completed, trips ahead.

Remembering that every ending is just the beginning of something else. 

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