I Must

I used to dream of quiet things; of a life stitched together by words and hopes and whispers, or the stillness in an early morning spent alone on a silent path atop a misty mountain. But what would it profit me there, searching my soul and baring my heart to the trees and leaves and songbirds? What would it profit the world? I could pass a day, a month, a year and there would be no sound from my lips to another’s ear. The world would continue on, and I in quiet wonder, would make no mark save a shallow footprint upon an empty, untraveled trail.… Read the rest...

The Making

I turn, slowly surveying this room, trying to glimpse the girl I was before the summer started. Perhaps I’ll catch the shimmer of her skirt as she slipped off into a damp, green field of grass, or the float of her hair held up in the breeze. She was unwise and wild as she stretched her bare feet out onto a lawn of lilac. A simple child, she believed the spring would never end. She is gone now, replaced instead by this storm wearied woman who stands before you secure and unmoving. Winnowed down to the strongest pillars of construction, what remains is but a marble carving, eroded by experience and emotion into something entirely new.… Read the rest...