Sit Down & Rest

To live these different lives

but love the same moon.

in the attic of my mind

only to find dust.

On the radio, a masculine voice croons about wasted potential.

The heat is on and the car becomes a safe haven from the harsh, wet coldness of the outside.

The road is wet, with fallen leaves plastered to the pavement.

In that moment you feel safe but solemn.

And you wonder if this is how you will always feel without them.

Surviving instead of living.

Seperated from them as you are from the cold rain.

Grimly awaiting the moment you have to step outside the car.

stirs the embers within me--

consuming us both.

I will remember your love...

it was fleeting too.

shining as your light grows dim.

A distant beacon.

until I forget the words.

And then, I will hum.

and all the rivers run dry,

my love will remain.

and the sun has lost her shine,

find me in the moon.

dancing along the current;

let peace guide you home.

veiled by the thick, city smog.

Nonetheless, they shine.

and the primrose will whither.

But love will live on.

I spoke to the trees.

I told them my sorrows

in exchange for their breeze.

I whispered and muttered,

and cried my despair.

Until one day,

an old willow

tusseled my hair.

She told me of storms

and droughts she had weathered.

Her branches painted pictures

of the ties she had severed.

She mentioned brothers and sisters--

some here, and some gone.

Willow spoke of all the winters

she had endured alone.

She told of a love that made her weep--

a love that had cut her an inch too deep.

Willow spoke lovingly of friends

that admired her branches.

And, later, of friends

she gave too many chances.

Then she wiped at my cheeks,

and tidied my shirt.

And she dusted my pants

free of the earth.

Then Willow bowed her bough

and said in a whisper;

All that is bad