12 String Dreams Journal
The initial storm was able to destroy a few structures and
tear down a few walls. The rain fell, lightning struck, and
thundered rolled. There was fighting and dancing, confusion
and understanding. There were vacancies filled and hearts
emptied. Emotions spilled upon the floor were swept up and
rekindled. Years of life slipped away in moments, some
moments lasted an eternity. I stood silent and alone,
allowing the rain to join my tears as they fell from my
eyes and soaked the earth below me. I asked for the rain. I
saw the clouds coming. I knew my shelter was in no
condition to support such a downfall. Still I waited,
encouraged, maybe even provoked. Do I regret? Not as much
as I should. Would I do it all over again?
Not a drop fell today. Not a cloud in the sky. Not a breeze
in the trees. The calm after the storm before the healing.
Time to patch and rebuild the damage.
Alone I reach for the tools needed and the strength
required to start my work. Those that danced just nights
before are no where to be found. An ironic case of "stormy
I wonder what good it does to point fingers with no one
around or to place blame when no one can hear.
Do I cry for myself, by myself?
Do I cry for others, selfishly?
Do I have the right to ignore, believe, condone, or
Do I have the right to make mistakes and be forgiven?
Do I have the right to be happy?
I'm afraid I'm at a loss with emotions. Too many, not
enough. Maybe just too familiar.
How many times have I felt this way?
How many times have I wanted to?
Too many to count....
A cold wooded mountain side.
A colder little house.
A house upon a rolling hill.
A vacant city park.
With Five I let myself dream. I left myself sleep.