Painting

When the rain comes,

it's not enough to drown out

the sound of our constantly

beating hearts.

I began writing you letters

in my mind while sitting behind

Bohemian curtains and painting

lines on canvas to pass the time.

Days blended together and evenings

came during which I realize

I hadn't been painting at all;

there were piles of empty mugs,

unwashed clothes strewn across my world.

When I got dressed that morning

the calendar revealed the months

that quickly passed, exes on calendars,

counting back as I lived in my solitary room;

where had I been?

The rain comes when least expected,

dripping patterns on tin roofs

with the hush of rushing water;

we are rejuvenated in morning dew

and monsoon weather, in waves

of liquid foaming blue.

Let's take a trip to the ocean.

Today Our Nation...

http://rarasekar.deviantart.com/art/i-am-for-obama-81996117

Touch the hearts of Children
With each resounding Beat
Shaking hands with Saviors
We forcefully refuse defeat

Golden age of Worlds
Ahead of our own feet
See our loping strides
We Gasp at how we cheat


Eve of Historical moments. We face the opportunity of a lifetime. Have faith in your leaders, but don't forget your own voice [or thoughts or fears or values].

A Little of This. A Little of That.

Trudging through the rain, she noticed the flicker of distant streetlights. Funny, she hadn't noticed them ever doing that before. Her shadow, elongated in front of her, raced ahead as if it were a guide in the flickering light. Drops pelted her hood and the sound reverberated throughout her body. It somehow calmed her racing heart. Her hands were stuffed into too-small pockets. In the right, she roughly clutched a pendant on simple white ribbon. She knew the imprint of a heart would be left upon her flesh, as though the lingering memory had seared itself into her. It seemed odd to her to hold the symbol in the palm of her hand. She slowly allowed herself to review the last few months.

Volumes of Oceans

It was like that again
Like realizing you’d never fly
Like saying your last goodbye
It was like it used to be
No personal army to flee
No heart to drift to sea
It proved difficult
To recognize the look
To see all that you took



Teeth chattered
She
Uncontrollably
Shook
The cold, The sting
The depths
Of situations
She never thought
He
Could break
Her Heart

The others just filled up space while I worked on how to figure out the situation of you. It’s odd how we find ourselves desperate for the comforts and yet unwilling to even dare to allow ourselves the rest. Perhaps we have not quite found ourselves, and the search is beyond the need to fill the heart. Perhaps it comes with time. The further we go, the more we will know.

I was prepared. I live in wait no more.


Peace
Mandy