There will be storms

Skies twist and turn these days, moving through in the blink of an eye, unsettling the mind that waits for rain yet receives only sunlight. They say there will be storms. Storms so fierce that it will test the mettle, the strong shall be wise and stand tall with an ounce of fear, as that is all life requires. A healthy dose of fear to put things in perspective.

The fear, the little nudge to the mind that reminds us of our smallness, our frailty. Life moves like that, we move through blind, Groundhog Day relived over and over yet soon we find, It was always the little things, the looks, the words, the feelings that mattered most.

A storm can rip apart the very things you’ve built, the things you’ve worked for, the things you desired….but in the end they are only that, things. The storm can’t replace a moment spent with a loved one, a kiss shared in passion, a smile given to a stranger just because they looked as if they had nothing….the free things in life, that’s what’s important.

There will be storms, internal, external, it’s all in the way you look at it. Yet if we set aside our preconceived thoughts and let understanding take the place, to leave a judgement behind of how things should be, to strip away the fear to find the light that shines below like the hottest sun, ah, then the storm will pass by, leaving little touched, perhaps just a hair out of place and a memory of how things used to be, and then we set fear aside of losing it all and begin to truly live.

Image taken on the gulf coast of Florida by Janet O. Realtor extraordinaire.

Empty page

Where did the words go on the day that they died? The book sat idly, pages blowing back and forth like sails on a ship in the breeze, back and forth, then resting still. Blank.

Where did the words go when they got caught between the tears, when the words spoken over rode the feeling, and when the night became dark and felt so empty, like the pages, on the day the words inside died.

Where did the words go, as the mind stood still watching helplessly and the tongue lay oversized and silent, swallowing the feeling as it moved up and then back down, replaced with the feeling of gut wrenching pain.

Where did the words go, when they couldn’t be written for fear of being found, for if you wrote them, then that made them real and they couldn’t be allowed to live in the light, instead forcing them down and swallowing them like a note passed in class, as the teacher holds out their hand for the little square that told secrets that weren’t allowed to be seen.

Where did the words go when no one was listening, when hearts were breaking, and pages remained empty for years….waiting patiently to live.

My last NaPoWriMo, not written to the prompt. Kept thinking about the death of words, or not speaking/writing what needs to be said, this is what surfaced. Hope you enjoy and Happy end of NaPoWriMo my friends. Peace and love and lots of writing ahead. K