I get caught up in your beauty - the way you always hold yourself up so high, each part of you is perfect. Your buds are each shaped in the perfection only God can paint. Your colors are as diverse as the fish in the sea or the faces in the world around me.
I get caught up in your smell. It takes me away to days of innocence - days of building forts in your trees back on the farm - days of learning what it meant to be free - the hard summer lessons of stealing and sex mixed in with the even harder winter lessons of work and death.
When I take your smell, it lifts my soul while sinking my heart. Your beauty and smell are reminders of pain as well. You can't take away this pain no matter how many times I ask you to do so. You can't erase the memories of coming home to a house filled with lilacs after a particularly stressful week in May. You can't erase the moments when you spoke more words than red roses or when your smell covered up all the worries and problems of life.
Those moments aren't pain, but the pain is that just as you leave each summer, these moments left. Unlike you, they will never bloom again. There is no revival, no spring for them - buried under years of winter, they will never be reborn.
So, when I walk past you each day, I can't help but stop and listen and breathe you in. Those moments rush through me and I, for one minute every day, feel alive again.
*~*~*
Castles in the north of Hungary...
driving along with Joe Angi, we stumbled upon this castle nestled away, run down and nearly unrecognizable as a castle.
this beauty stands proudly in the middle of a valley - maybe someday I'll take a few hours and explore it :)
No comments:
Post a Comment