Somewhere between the quiet
and the haze, I go
to sit for a while.
Somewhere
between the quiet
and the haze.
And you might ask me
what I hope to find there.
You might ask me if it’s true.
That the haze shimmers like a thousand suns,
and the quiet melts like vanilla cream
on apple pie, oh, sweet love.
I would tell you
you must seek for yourself
the whispers, true.
Somewhere between the quiet and the haze
you must go.
It’s an odd spot I find myself in. This middle land of bloggy days.
This creative world of half-begun.
These are the things that I know:
So I’ve decided I won’t.
I thought it would make sense for me to let it go, and in some ways it does but in other ways it doesn’t. This grey world. However do we make it through. 🙂
This blog allows all my creative seasons to be, and to be shared.
I love that. I love sharing my talents and passions: for much too much of my life, my creativity was held captive, losing life behind the bars of solitude. I fear that by leaving this place, I will be placing that creativity back in the hands of a sloppy, unappreciative owner. I don’t want to do that.
I want to always let it fly.
So I’ll stay until I know in my heart of hearts that it’s time to say goodbye.
That’s what Mary Poppins said to the children.
I’ll stay.
Until the wind changes (which might be never.)
(And Empath Days will carry on as planned. xx)
empathdays.com(opens in a new tab)
I’ve been loving the chance to melt into human stories again. And music. My goodness, how it feels to connect to that deeper place within and melt into the sweet symphony of another.
These past few months have seen me dipping in and out of the great creative loves of my life: writing and music. I can’t remember a time in my life when I was without them, and I’m so terribly glad for that. A soul merging with life itself. Surely that’s what creativity and self-expression are—at least, that is what they are to me.
I’m wondering why my soul has drawn me back to music so strongly at this time in my life. Why it’s chosen to show me the true effects music has on my body. Why it’s chosen to speak to me through the musical stories I tell and hear.
I don’t suppose it matters why or when.
I’m grateful to have found my whole heart again.
That’s what matters most to me.
Grip my body in darkness
and I will show you
your soul.
May the black of the air around us
swirl
with scarlet dreams
and indigo flight.
Hold me with your eyes.
Feed my aching night,
lover sweet,
and I will be
your spin
and tumble
and roll
into the haze
of the forgotten day.
The air around me
soars
with the thrilling madness
of you.
Take me to the sky.
Dance
with me
tonight.
I am here.
Do you see me?
All of me?
You see my body, it fills you to overflowing.
Slinks around the pathways of your daydreams
until I am nothing
but an untouchable vision
of lamplight, of passion, of lust.
You see a pretty face, porcelain and sweet.
But do you see me?
Has any man
ever
truly
seen me?
Today, I feel it all.
Life.
Rushing beneath my skin, burning in my bones.
It’s an ache, I feel.
A beautiful wind that moves through my body and clutches at the spaces all around me.
Life.
It’s an ache I’ve always sought to understand.
An ache I never will understand.
An ache.
A life.
A dream to be everything I am.
A longing to be nothing I am not.
