January 28, 2011

The Precipice of Fresh Frontiers

So this is the way it goes out? Like a slow dying flame or a bottled firefly, flickering against unknown odds. I’m tearing alone at what’s left of work, the let down slow and cumbersome. Suddenly my hand shakes with the pressure of days to come, the past haunts and daunts us all and one more night is the least we can do. I am alone as I steer once again towards familiar coasts. We dance in dreams but are awoke by our own palpitations that go unnoticed in waking life. My vision blurry, my heart aching, this cannot be the moment of realization; I don’t have time to face reality yet. These lyric-less songs evoke more emotion than thought possible. Memories and faces, memories of faces, push it away again, not ready for this much conscientiousness yet. Give it a few days til the sun soaks in and I find myself climbing my way through clematis again. The only cure for all this emotion must be saltwater, wash away these feelings and once again find fresh frontiers and new adventure.

6 comments:

Doug said...

That was particularly pretty.

Rio said...

Doug - you were in my dream the other night

Doug said...

That's a privilege, for sure. Did I have floppy ears and a black nose?

Will said...

Hey Rio, Just stumbled across your blog today. You write beautifully. Emotion leaps from the pages as I read.

katlyn1213 said...

Rio, I love your writing style-it elicits emotions and appeals to the senses. Followed :)

Rio said...

Thank you Will and Katlyn