in which hearts

Come along for the ride, inside my mind, with a spark and a glide, a jolt and a slide.  You might find something I didn’t even know was there along the way, and say it to me as if you were the one who thought of it to say.  I even may write it down and forget it again within the day.  I think of the monologue by Jamie Foxx in the film ‘Jarhead’, starting out with “I could be working with my brother right now”, and ending with “Hoorah!”  In about seventeen seconds I will be running down a different path, analyzing things that were said half a year ago, within the context of the present day.  Again, and again, and again I lay awake trying to fall.  Trying to dream beyond the confines of my own mind.  Trying to dream of a kingdom in which hearts don’t have to be guarded, and hopes don’t have to be dashed.  Where worth isn’t discarded, and building isn’t smashed.  Filled with a drowsiness that pours through my hands, this epic white canvas mocks me but understands.  And the ears aren’t open in the audience.  But I must get it out of me to sleep.  I don’t want my words to keep.  I want to give them, and plant them, and let them grow and enchant them with the music other people are listening to right now, rather than reading as they should be.


Being heard, stirred, and perhaps cured by life's many hidden images and the written-spoken word.
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