Helping you Love a little more

In summer you’ll find me type writing like a blotch on a page, just by the black spill of ink, you know I’ve been.

I love when the sun softly kisses my bare limbs, I’m in shorts and skinny jeans, yet I’ve hidden myself under the shade while everyone else is kissed by the sun, I’m floating inside the pool, pale, fair and un-touched, like a sin that has been undone.

Dancing upon leaves that gladly crackle and crunch like the bones of some long gone animal beneath my bare feet, its autumn where I am, singing with a distant bird, flying with the fleet. The leaves in my enchanted forest are red and brown and have been kissed too, by the lips of the sun. They sway upon the branches until their time is done. That’s how you know I’ve been.

Winter is here and I’ve found love. I found love in the sweet, cold flakes that fall upon my cheeks as the heavens begin to cry tears of snow. I found love in the branches of a nearby tree, in the stripped sweater that I throw upon my shoulders and I found love in the cool breeze. I found love in the air as the snow melts away. Animals are blessed, here comes the sun. The moon and the stars are pleasant to watch even while the cold leaves me light headed, and my body begins to sway.

Bees, bugs, animals all retire from their seasonal visits in faraway lands, either in their heads or in their dreams. Birds return from their vacations in paradise, never aware of what’s on the other side, always rolling the dice. The year is away like a mouse helter-skelter under my door, the sun returns and I sink into the deep, my feet touching the ocean floor. I awaken from a beautiful sleep and a beautiful dream, because that’s all it is now, a dream, the type writer, the ink, the leaves and my bare feet. Also my true love is now gone and I must wait to see it again.

The cold air and the snow, the small flakes of ice encrusted onto my brow. All I have now is the unfinished paper with a stain of ink, I have dead leaves on my path and they feel like sea weed after a storm. Never the less, the seasons again take form. New lives made, new hearts met, new dreams flushed away and new destinies set. In order for the cycle to be complete, life and death must meet and new blood must flow. New rivers must run deep as time forever and ever continues to give and new life must grow. Every year, month, minute, second and so, the sun must shine to ooze away the old rain and snow.