Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Thursday, September 22, 2011

..to love and be loved.

What exist and doesn't exist depends on our perception.


How different might the path look paved with honesty.

It seems as if we are not getting a reprieve from the rain. From spring through fall we have had our share of storms. In all reality you try to keep moving ahead, so that you don't slip back into a time long gone. But today's rain has away of draping the moment in melancholy. I fluff the pillow, pull the blanket a little closer, wipe a tear as I battle the curtain of darkness. The turmoil within is empowered by the motivators love and fear as I struggle to see the sun behind the clouds.

Sometimes the chill is so deep 
that my whole being shivers.

The rain is falling, the skies are dark and gray as each raindrop touches my heart a memory is replayed.  The child laughs, splashing with a sense of glee. Suddenly it all disappears and there she is standing all of sixteen.Making decisions in life a new path she now creates, one she would follow to this very day. Silly and foolish, she believes you can live on love, as she struggles through life just needing the warmth of being loved. . The water puddles and in it her reflection can be seen, the restless soul and a weary mind with scattered memories.

Wipe a tear acknowledge the love within your heart.


Life is like a  childs top, better to keep spinning or you'll fall down .

Today is yesterdays future... so I guess we do see the future.

Indelible are the words written on the heart and carried by the soul.


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