Reincarnated v. To cause to appear in a new form; refurbish or revitalize
Fantasy n. Imagery that is more or less coherent, as in dreams and daydreams, yet unrestricted by reality.
Simple words, simple text, and a simple message all intertwined from a simple thought. I spent the afternoon today watching the movie "What Dreams May Come", and it shuttled me back to another time...another place. I remember reading the book of the same title so many years ago, and once again, found myself in another day when I was not so sound of mind, body, and soul. The following may be long, it may be short, but only time will tell. Here you go, and may you enjoy.
A smile that flutters behind my eyelids, and I realize that there will be more than enough time for my future dreams. But my past dreams? Once upon a time, I had a best friend to share my laughter with, and for a brief glimpse into the future...one to grow old with. But now? She is gone like the dust on the rising north wind. She is no longer someone I know, and so, really, has no relevance in my life anymore. Sad, isn't it? But, it is not she that I speak of next.
In my present day, would I run to her side if I could? Nay...I would sprint. I feel the cold thaw of winter bring the warming of my heart. I wonder if I am chasing a dream or does it really exist? Does she really exist? I can hear whispers through my mind tell me that I must finish writing my story...and then will I not only find her; but she will find me.
Time slows for no man. We walk, we talk, and we sleep. When we wake, what is it that we forgot from our dreams? What is real and what is fiction to us? Beauty surrounds us in our waking moments...the quiet hush of falling snow flakes, coloured leaves dropping softly to a canvas of red, yellow, and green; the blossoming of flowers on a dewy summer morning.
In my passing days, I recognize snatches of my dreams, and in them I see the hard shell that I rely upon to protect my heart...I see it as a wall of transparency for my heart needs not protection anymore. It only wants to roam untethered, breathe in the richness of life, and find the one it was always mated for. It will, and always has, refused to give up, and so I trudge on.
Distance means nary a thing to me. It is the journey through my days, my sojourns on sandy beaches...it is the remains of my imprints on the soft sand that I leave behind. Once again, how could I give up? If you have met me, you would know what it means to me to be a survivor...if you have never met me, you can only imagine what you would see in my eyes.
Picture a grove of tall, thick tree trunks, their tops swaying and brushing the heavens. Can you hear the laughter of children and see their shadows dance across the ground? Life need not be all fire and brimstone, people, it need not always be a hell on earth. I have walked through the darkest part of my life, and returned to the daylight intact...my eyes smiling, my soul stronger than ever, and my heart now in my pocket for safekeeping.
Fantasy n. Imagery that is more or less coherent, as in dreams and daydreams, yet unrestricted by reality.
Simple words, simple text, and a simple message all intertwined from a simple thought. I spent the afternoon today watching the movie "What Dreams May Come", and it shuttled me back to another time...another place. I remember reading the book of the same title so many years ago, and once again, found myself in another day when I was not so sound of mind, body, and soul. The following may be long, it may be short, but only time will tell. Here you go, and may you enjoy.
A smile that flutters behind my eyelids, and I realize that there will be more than enough time for my future dreams. But my past dreams? Once upon a time, I had a best friend to share my laughter with, and for a brief glimpse into the future...one to grow old with. But now? She is gone like the dust on the rising north wind. She is no longer someone I know, and so, really, has no relevance in my life anymore. Sad, isn't it? But, it is not she that I speak of next.
In my present day, would I run to her side if I could? Nay...I would sprint. I feel the cold thaw of winter bring the warming of my heart. I wonder if I am chasing a dream or does it really exist? Does she really exist? I can hear whispers through my mind tell me that I must finish writing my story...and then will I not only find her; but she will find me.
Time slows for no man. We walk, we talk, and we sleep. When we wake, what is it that we forgot from our dreams? What is real and what is fiction to us? Beauty surrounds us in our waking moments...the quiet hush of falling snow flakes, coloured leaves dropping softly to a canvas of red, yellow, and green; the blossoming of flowers on a dewy summer morning.
In my passing days, I recognize snatches of my dreams, and in them I see the hard shell that I rely upon to protect my heart...I see it as a wall of transparency for my heart needs not protection anymore. It only wants to roam untethered, breathe in the richness of life, and find the one it was always mated for. It will, and always has, refused to give up, and so I trudge on.
Distance means nary a thing to me. It is the journey through my days, my sojourns on sandy beaches...it is the remains of my imprints on the soft sand that I leave behind. Once again, how could I give up? If you have met me, you would know what it means to me to be a survivor...if you have never met me, you can only imagine what you would see in my eyes.
Picture a grove of tall, thick tree trunks, their tops swaying and brushing the heavens. Can you hear the laughter of children and see their shadows dance across the ground? Life need not be all fire and brimstone, people, it need not always be a hell on earth. I have walked through the darkest part of my life, and returned to the daylight intact...my eyes smiling, my soul stronger than ever, and my heart now in my pocket for safekeeping.
So, skip instead of walk, bounce lightly versus heavy steps, and believe in your dreams. Have faith that what is written in the stars for one can be written for us all. When you want to scream, when you want to yell, and when you want to hear the words that you are not wrong; that everything will truly be okay. But why scream and why yell? You already know it to be true. Never give up...never. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.
"Sing me the truth sweet bird of youth...I got some trouble trying to understand. Beneath the veils of mystery, are these the the movements of some unseen hand?"
