skyhands.
What I've wanted most from my life was never what I admitted to. I've never wanted a car, an iPod, new clothes. I've never wanted friends or publicity.
All I've ever wanted was peace. I wanted to dance in the midnight skies and the tall fields and feel at peace with myself and the world. I wanted to reach out and touch the sublimity of satisfaction.
Sometimes I've gotten moments like this one, where I am now. I'm lying on my back watching the opaque clouds change hues as the sun leaves the day. I reach up and try to touch the chilled sky, wondering where it ends, where it truly begins. It's topless and bottomless and for now, on my back with my toes buried in the fresh cut grass, I think I've found my middle ground.
I'm surprised at how I've never heard these particular notes and keys and rhythms of the maple trees whispering in the waning evening breeze.
I've never smelled this enticing sweet scent of memories of barbeques and the endings of days, of clouds dark and drifting asleep by the minute.
I never thought I would notice the stealthy switch in the color of the atmosphere, of the curtains closing on my backyard, on me, on the world.
And as I lie on my back and try to grasp the closing curtains of July 19th, 2008, I sing a soft tune, a lullaby into the heavens,
"It's quiet in the streets now, and it's quiet in my head..."
I'm not afraid of running out of words but I'm afraid of running out of light. My paper suddently has a bluish glow, its familiar white lost.
The world outside past 9 pm is as mysterious to me as anything ever was; I've never known the wafting smell of evening sprinklers or the hum of neighbors' TV's. This world was as lost to me as the bottomless clouds I try to reach, but on this evening I think I've found a small part of it, think I've found my spot in the universe and my note in the wispy breaths of song.