Categories
Blue Moon Stories

Heal

The beautiful rain went away

Leaving behind clouds grey

I ran and ran and ran and ran…

Abandoning your memories far away.

Until I reached a cliff tall

And I could run no more

All that was left for me was to plunge

And let rest my feet sore.

Suddenly I was flying!

The wind dried away my tears

My eyes began to see clearly again

And the clouds began to disappear.

I looked down and saw you

I understood that you wished to see me fly

And even though it’s your threads that are stuck in my wings

I am at least going to try.

Categories
Speaking of Things

To the hero of your story

I will really start living when I become a published writer…
I will really start living when I get to the Olympics…
I will really start living when I have a baby…
I will really start living when I am 55 kilograms…

Does life really care?
Does death really care?
Does death really care where you are in the story you tell yourself- at the beginning, middle or end?

Your story is only yours to write until the big scriptmasters- accidents and age and sickness and viruses- decide to change the plot.

All you have in your story is only right now.