Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Mornings like this.
The sun is lazily creeping into the cloudless sky on a morning plagued by the chills yet bounding in promise. Rays flirts with the courageous leaves still hanging and ignite belief that today is in fact a gift. Headphones block out needless distractions while supplementing my a.m. experience with the fitting soundtrack. Melodies are loaded with slow rhythms. Lyrics seem to hold more than syllables and commas. Natural acoustics go hand-in-hand with mornings like this. Listening moves to hearing as emotions are linked to the brisk awareness that fall is fading fast and winter's chill will soon overtake the resistance. Coffee has logged long hours to solidify its position of comfort, warmth and hug like status. So. On days like this. Their services are requested and reputation is not only solidify but becomes legend. The perfect blend of tradition, familiarity and taste. One sip reminds you that bitterness is as temporary as the passing of the twelfth month and hopelessness is a casual hint that we need each other to get through.
Wind I cannot see moves the slender trees, whose fall dieting and shedding, leave them open to the flowing force. A dance ensues. Gusts take the lead and branches follow suit. Swaying with perfect lines honed from their rehearsal of years and years. A love story unfolds. I watch and wonder why we are often to busy to realize that this is where it all began. Where love taught us to dream. Where laughter taught us to move. Where life began its pursuit.
The window through which I look is not entirely clean yet the little imperfections warrant truth. I peer through it as if to gaze into another world. I am inside yet aware that my soul craves to feel the story this window is telling. My soul longs to be apart of a love story. It yearns for partners to dance with and to be thrown into a story worth telling. This window separates me from the outside world but my mind easily connects what I know to be true about the suns waning presence and understands life is lived on the other side of the glass. Life is lived where wind blows, trees dance and songs are sung.