Sometimes the world seems amiss. Like the how-to, the what, and the why are missing in all the places they should be. I can tell when the trees are blown over. For days, no thoughts will come to me, and I realize I have burned out. And then a dash of glinting spark dances when I see a captivating picture, a sunset, a child playing with some trinket overlooked by the rest of us.
Understand, you could never catch me where I once was, but it’s confusing how I have not stayed there, and still somehow the darkness has finally caught up.
It’s altogether disheartening. You ran toward The Light, and you knew it was there, and it was bright, and it was warming, and it was kind, and you knew it would be there for you – always – and you knew it was Real. And then you arrived and found yourself farther away than when you started.
And worse, though you could never explain the complexity and beauty of every water droplet, you could never begin to understand why the day goes from hot to cold, you could never tell your friend why the grass blows one way and not the other…you couldn’t do any of this, but you could explain why the trees are now broken and fallen, why the day has gone from cold to bitter, and why the grass has grown over the mound of that one –
But you’re no better off than you were before. It’s done you nothing, and you’ve wished yourself a mind but no heart.
And so I find the world is lonely when water flows backwards.