Halle Wood

Typewriter Series #1718 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Text for Tired Eyes:

What will we remember when it comes to it, to the pinprick of light bursting rebelliously through the pitch, what will we carry with us?  It will be the moments, the firework explosions of light, of color and all the words said, and the silences, the words we didn’t have the strength of tongue to utter.  It will be the chasing, not the light, it will be the running through forests, from problems, or straight into arms.  It will be the lips, red and pulsing from first kisses and last, from words that danced across them like ballerinas, the sound of laughter like wingbeats in winter skies.  I’m collecting them, now, and I hope they are enough then, I hope they tell the story of me, of us, and I hope there is music with it, filled with god sounds and beauty; I hope I hear it over the sounds of my heart beating, if slower. We are slideshows of the seconds we’ve seen, stories told with sorrow, with strength and grace.   When it comes to it, to the end of these times, we will see what we have seen, only brighter, slower, and filled with sound and soul.  We will see this story, so fill its pages with such stunning and simple light, we will never wish to look away.