Sometimes there is silence and space
reaching across the multitudes of
decades, decades, decades
spent dancing by the kitchen door
spent in that hallway, shone
spent wandering by the bookshelf,
home.
won’t you slide across this empty room
faint hum of music and sparkle in your eyes
won’t you tangle, soft around these limbs
won’t you wrap my heart in sunrise
stop my heart from beating
where has it all gone
stop
you don’t know how you don’t
read me a story, count all the minutes
between when the doors closed
the sheets, the covers
i told you when these day late hours
rusted over
the only things left would be
that empty blanket and
where she sighed, happily
i told you that i’d always remember
our favorite songs
and gazing up at the ceiling
when you laughed and
thumbed through that magazine mindlessly
cause in those in between hazy daylight hours
was where my heart was
Where does the wind go when we’re gone?
twisting through the trees
winding through the fenceposts
where does it go when we leave?
the years will carry these leaves
far, far away from here
the gravel under our feet just a memory.
where does the wind go?
a few moons
many winds
many nights
many stars
only whispers
-mh
It is strange when you can see the ends of things so clearly.
The dust, the fray, the edges of things –
where it all ends.
the walk away – one last time down the hall you knew so well
never to be walked that very same way again.
It was strange to see the turn of the corner.
To watch you disappear into the dark
knowing that was the day you walked out of my life forever.
This is the intersection.
Hang a left, I’ll make a right
And I won’t look back
but you know
you know
while you were here
it was good, it was good
it was so, so good
it was so good to see you smile.
For days when you feel like time is speeding ahead too quickly, and you wish you could hit rewind…
No I’m not color blind
I know the world is black and white
Try to keep an open mind but
I just can’t sleep on this tonight
Stop this train, I want to get off and go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
But honestly won’t someone stop this train
Don’t know how else to say it, don’t want to see my parents go
One generation’s length away
From fighting life out on my own
Stop this train
I want to get off and go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t but honestly won’t someone stop this train
So scared of getting older
I’m only good at being young
So I play the numbers game to find away to say that life has just begun
Had a talk with my old man
Said help me understand
He said turn 68, you’ll renegotiate
Don’t stop this train
Don’t for a minute change the place you’re in
Don’t think I couldn’t ever understand
I tried my hand
John, honestly we’ll never stop this train
See once in a while when it’s good
It’ll feel like it should
And they’re all still around
And you’re still safe and sound
And you don’t miss a thing
’til you cry when you’re driving away in the dark…
I was finding myself more than a little distracted at work, reading online articles like “How to Tell When You’re about to Go on a Mental Break” and a rather sexist Forbes article on “The Top 10 Most Stressful Careers” when I came across a little gem of a blog on Tumblr. In it, a girl mentioned how she was having a less than wonderful day, and huffed to an old man at a bus stop, “Can’t this day just hurry and be over already?” To which he gently reminded her, “Don’t be in such a hurry to spend time you’ll never get back.” It made me think about the brevity of life and how we spend so much of it wishing the hours would fly by more quickly.
It also made me think of how beautiful being old can be, and how I wish I had a little old man to be my yoda on days like these.
Tell Me Something Beautiful 