Thursday, 20 June, 1996

…sit in a coffee house accompanied
by a good friend…without saying a word…gentle wind…softly hued sky of
baby blues, and violets, and dazzling oranges and yellows that melt in your
mouth; warm colors like amber….maybe this is my favorite time of the
day…when all slows down and just before the crickets play their night
song…when words have a power all their own…when every syllable, every
utterance is a work of art…when I could pluck the lullaby words and eat them
and they would be soft and wispy like cotton candy…when the world seems
beautiful…when it touches your heart to be alive and every tendril in your
body vibrates with LIFE…something like a dream and yet the sensations are too
real to be a dream…the laziness which seems to cover you…setting you there
with a most comfortable sense of completedness…of fullness…the low…the
lulling…the sweet…these are the times when life is warm…the barest hint
of a whisper…among the trees…it comes softly…and leaves quietly…so as
not to disturb the serenity of the scene…on padded feet…and then the night
falls…do…during the eve all noises seem to drift into oblivion and blend
into a background symphony…where you feel the very real presence of the past
and the energy of the future but you are content with the mellow of the
now…retrospection time…now is the comfortable silence…blackberry


About papillion

Intense Often Moody Transparent Exquisitely sensitive Animated Never satisfied Curious Eternal Romantic Creative Devotedly Christian Encouraging Multi-layered Loving Quick Judge Critical Forever evolving View all posts by papillion

2 responses to “Thursday, 20 June, 1996

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