May... The year counts no more!!
My scribbles start filling a white neglected draft. So typical. It's May 2014. Perhaps my pen bleeds what our hearts couldn't. Love, pure love; no boundaries, no conditions, no ends. Freedom which might make the passing years count. They keep asking how life is going far away. It is not. Moments never felt that much paralized. Breathing tastes bitter. Crying sometimes makes a good therapy. But I fear a therapy that might make my vision clearer. I wish to believe I've seen it all. No more expectations, no more longing. Blank, totally blank. Is it too much to ask, or are they those memories that keep filling in the blanks? I fear to keep them; their loss will be heavier as years pass. I miss you home; I miss you like I can't miss more. I wonder if there will be life behind the gates I wish to knock one day. Gates that open to green fields watered by peace and nourished by togetherness and love; where earth is as we witness from the space; no lines to misshape her beauty. Until then, Mays are still to come, and people will keep marching through the fields, not realizing that life is granted to be lived, not ruled.
wafaa
