The clouds are the pink colour of cotton candy. The air is sweet. And the winter sun softly caresses your skin....
HEART TO HEART
The clouds are the pink colour of cotton candy. The air is sweet. And the winter sun softly caresses your skin. The wind is cold, but the sort of cold that carries your thoughts away into solace. You’re surrounded by a subtle laughter and cloaked in a warm embrace of memories. Just as you let your breath out; you’re free of your burdens.
The daily routine sets itself straight. And you bring everything back on the same page. The scattered pieces of your heart are eventually, slowly, patiently held together like petals of winter roses blooming in a ground of brown grass. As everything dies, you find yourself living once again in the amalgam of sweet nostalgia and unknown future. Mixed in the hues of a sunset painting the sky orange and your thoughts blue. You put everything in black and white and put back the hurt where it belongs; no longer like a wound on your skin. Your bruises fade away as you rest your mind. Give the pain the time it needs to heal and let it wither with the winter leaves, crumbled under your feet. You finally embark on the journey you’ve been too afraid to start. And slowly you crawl back to how things used to be. The innocence hiding in the shadow of your mind now walks proudly in the sun, chin up you tell yourself, as you watch the clouds move above in the sky, fading in a distance like the worries you had in your mind. You escape outside the bounds of walls or your body and find yourself dwelling in the daydreams of you resting in the sun, your head basking in the morning bliss, your thoughts circling around finally about to rest, as your hunger for peace lays satiated in the sound of leaves rustling and your soul feels full in the tranquillity of a quiet morning all by yourself before you face everyone else. Just like the settling sand after the waves crash against the shore you let your atoms rest to how they were before you were touched by the world with deadlines, commitments, responsibilities and worries. You taste the sweetness of your company and make your own path in the wind to help your heart when the season changes once again.
So that you know, when you are stuck in a routine. When your heart is about to lose its bloom. When the evenings weigh you down. When the past creeps up to you from behind like a bad dream. When nostalgia cripples you in the morning. When anxiety paralyzes your work. When sadness makes you lose your capability to love. You take a breather. You tell yourself life is more than the purposes we’re supposed to fulfil or the people we should be bound to please or the orders we’re conditioned to take. Life is what happens in between the pages of your favourite novels. Or in the falsetto of your favourite song. It is that morning walk you took. And the sunset you watched on your way back from work. It is the food you enjoyed because it reminded you of your mom. It is the years that make you more empathic and humble. It is in how you show you love someone. It is in the cherishing of your ability to create even when you feel destroyed.
It is in finding your way back every time you lose a sense of yourself, through day dreaming about home.
