I remember a time when words would reach and respond, a time of sweet expression. I remember there was no effort in being blessed with a reach, a selective hello, a wonder of a passionate plea. I could become anything I wanted to be, and still an acceptance always occurred, a sort of light that would lead me to new places, newer imagined horizons, a peaceful sojourn shared with that certainty of love.
I come here now because there is an energy, a reminder, some sweet redemption for the pain that has drawn our hearts to distant paths, perhaps no longer walking in a similar direction, but I always try hard to let my evaluation of this time fade away so hope and desire might always remain.
I hold on to love as it is all I may ever have, it gives me strength and helps me realize that it did once exist, and no matter such societal expectations that drove a stake in between our lives, I’ll always know there was a time …
I sit inside a dream, a wonderment that lets me breathe rather than swallow me into becoming nothing at all with my world, my imagination, my creative soul. I know that time and life offer only a partial glimpse into what our lives may become, we have to live out the rest. There have been recent days when I no longer felt I had the same resilience for continuing forward I once had, but my strength is returning.
Inside that transformation contains a stolen heart waiting to be found … someday.
Until then, I drink my coffee, knowing whom it is I care and hold close to my sweet rendering of memory; she is a muse, yet un-mistakenly real, her mystique always with me.
Always here …
apersonaljourney - stories of love 