Lanterns

 The story between us - longing, absence - doesn't play in my soft dreams now - gentler visions - shining green in the sun. Maybe it prepared a way for them.

I will write about it. Black words wait on a white word document. Lined up like skyscrapers in our old city.

I found it somehow hard to be in nature with you - our hearts hid in shadows, screens, in artifice, deep within a glass.

In nature - where I usually felt solace - the truth was harder to ignore - your lack of love that I didn't want to look at.

I'm thinking of the girl I was.

Her childhood. The city with glowing parks and streets.

I think that I will write about it - but there has to be a right time.

Words are like lanterns that you send out into the world.

Love is reborn through centuries; art and poems shine on.

So, you're cautious of what you put out there, not knowing where it could someday land.

You want to put out something good.

But, you can trust the words will travel where they need to.

Work provides the ability to give. That's what I want to remember and the place where I'd like to live. That time of just giving everything.

What would I tell her? "Don't look at this world"?

I would give her lots of different directions.

But she lived the life that she did...she was led to where she needed to be.

I don't know why, this month, I'm struggling with some things again. When I feel like this, I don't know if there's something I should do, somewhere I should go.

I think I have to trust that I'll get where I'm meant to, and let go.