I approach the door I see in my dreams.
The shifting dreams I've had for the past few nights.
Sometimes its the same door, sometimes it's new.
So each night, I focus and describe it in this journal
The door, so that one night I can choose.
The Sea Door
The air left me. Gazing at the brilliant abalone moulded door.
pink coral decorates the top of the frame.
thick seaweed
wrap – fall
dark gordons green
tendrils swaying
listless,
limp
reacting to
something in the water
I take a step closer to investigate
as little fish hastily swim
schools
obscured by the abalone colorful sheen
I start to move closer
A small motion, in the door
stops me.
A great horizontal slit
opens slowly and scans me.
The handle, which was no longer a handle starts to reach out
the briny tentacle reaching towards me.
Dark violet water falling
silently, reaching towards
I approach the door I see in my dreams.
The shifting dreams I've had for the past few nights.
Sometimes its the same door, sometimes it's new.
So each night, I focus and describe it in this journal
The door, so that one night I can choose.
The Golden Door
Walking towards this door is like waking up on the first day of summer.
I can feel the heat escaping, like sidewalks and grass clippings.
Its morning as you touch the door frame.
Intricate vine designs pour across the ligaments of its frame.
The gentle pulse, like the heartbeat of the wind, cool ~ dandelions puffs sailing into the afternoon heat.
Laughter. So sweet and innocent I almost instinctively grab the door handle and twist,
but thats when I see the door handle.
Gnarled and dark, spent. Examining the opener I see faces. Faces that have been twisted and turned so many times the bodies are indistinguishable against each other.
A throne of faces wound into the intricate turner.
Macob and beautiful, youth forever locked in a dance
words are weapons.
through rosy lips, venomous
through pens, backstabbing
through dance,
words are subtle transformed
a line
a glance
motion becomes – statement
that cries
“get away
and softly states
“please, please stay
When the door closed
I felt the wind roll out
The small world we'd cultivated burn
Its ashes, not even fine enough to hold
That's not what I want to remember
I want to remember the winter
Wrapped tightly under a blanket
To see your face smiling
To watch sparks play across your eyes
To be there again
Walking hasn't felt the same since that day
Coming home to no one
Sitting drinking coffee with no one
But the sun, is getting stronger
the wind has started to rise
The connections we build.
With the places we live
The places we work
Mine are no different
I realize
As my eyebrow raise
The nervous system, of dust
tattered books and creaky tarnished flooring
alerted my gut
that she
She was here
My wait over
I could see her fingers wrap
around the present id left her
Again I felt her settle to the floor
Then I slowly stood, taking care to lay my own book down
I would sneak this time
and so I did
winding like a python through the underbrush of literary volumes
flowing until I could hear her hum
Standing there, opposite a mirror
her bookshelf between us
I knew this might be my last chance
I let my vision fall, one shelf at a time
until at last i saw the book held in front of her
Her chestnut hair flowing down onto frail shoulders
Her humming slight and sad
The sound of a pages turning hungrily
“Excuse me” I began, but the book she read dropped
A turquoise shimmer of her skin as my eyes met a cerulean blue
it felt like a bubble popped
i have a secret world,
that blossomed from all my fears,
that I scribbled down in electric notes,
that will never disappear.
when all my days are over,
as slowly my words undone,
seek out my hidden hamlet
and read it while sitting under the sun.
the breathe caught in my throat
as the cradle slowly climbed,
click
click
click
in each moment
i could feel time
being so caught up in the stream, its intoxicating
click
I found a mountain far away, that looked like one
Id seen on the drive here,
the smell of popcorn wafting through the incensed air
click
We've only talked on the phone, how could this be so easy.
As easy as getting on a rollercoaster
terrifying
is .
climb .
the .
.
but
the
drop
is what sets
love
free
“You're the best friend i've ever had”
was what the boy had said
words which filled me up
that feel like skateboard wheels
crunching over sidewalk
that smell like sea salt
kites flying haphazardly through
early spring light
“You're the sweetest, kindest man”
was what the bride had said
through moist eyes and smiling lips
flowers draped around the room
dancing close, the world shut out
our hearts beating in terror
at a world that we would build
just starting out
“You're the best dad ever
was what the little girl said
As air changes away from summer
cool wisps of fall
autumn colored hair
back and forth on the swing
hazel eyes paired with smiling lips
laughter and innocence
“You were the world to me, mom”
I said as I heard her voice fade from the phone
The sounds of the machines scream
Footfalls, are the last thing I hear as the line goes dim
a weight blooms over my chest
pushing down on a world
that till now only thought it had
known what it was to be threatened
Thinking back on those phrases that built me
phrases and moments that others planted deep inside
seeds I've nurtured, watered to keep growing
make me smile even as my body turns a little cold
Looking into your eyes, my once small girls
today at last, is my turn
“You're the best daughters a father could ask for
please love and never be ashamed by it”
Lost a pet today and I got to bury it. This was my youngest first time really dealing with something dying she really cared about. It took me back to when I was around her age. To when Id seen my cat dead on the walkway.
I wish it hadn't happened today but the universe can be just as cold as it is kind.