the collision

I need imagination like I need oxygen. It is the spark of passion inside me that keeps me moving, most alive in the collision of the real world and a dream.

My imagination comes to life when I listen to music, and when the music spills out my fingers, synchronized with my breath into the flute. The notes on the page are footsteps, leading me to a different place through the shapes and colors and movements of sound.

My imagination comes to life when I read a book, twenty-six letters arranged and rearranged to tell a million different stories. Underneath the covers I wrap myself in a new perspective, trapped between the sheets. Imagination weaves together a fabric of ideas using letters and words and sentences to form paragraphs and chapters and eventually a library of infinite potential.

My imagination comes to life when I spend time in nature, as the sky stretches on without limit and the trees wrap me in their embrace. Layered leaves pattern the ground with their shadows as sunlight breaks through the deciduous dome. I look at the endless sky and towering trees and see that the world is so much bigger than me, so full with dreams.

My imagination comes to life when I am doing the things that I love. It takes me to the places where I long to be and enhances the places where I am. It shows me that everything is so much bigger than my perception of it. There are so many places to see, ideas to explore, and dreams to dream. I know that I am alive because my imagination is, and it won't let me give up. Where possibilities are endless, so is hope.

i wonder if

I wonder if you ever heard the birds
Sing softly through your window as you slept.
I wonder if you ever heard the words
Pierced silently my soul whene'er I wept.

I thought that if you'd ever seen the sun,
You'd notice that my world had turned to gray.
I thought that when the world around me spun,
You'd have some light to turn my night to day.

I wonder if you ever saw the stars
Gleam brilliantly across a raven sky.
I wonder if you ever saw my scars;
I wonder if you knew the reason why.

I hope for beauty in all that you see-
I hope that maybe one day you'll see me.

a distant melody

Away you went, away from me,
Beneath a stormy sky.
And I was drifting off to sea.
Alone, I wondered why.

You came and went like waves on sand,
As I watched the shore grow small.
The waves that flow at the wind's command
 Will push me farther still.

Slipping under, I have lost
The ground beneath my feet.
I search for where our paths have crossed,
A distant melody.

The shore is gone, the past behind,
The ocean now my home.
And in the depths my heart will find
It best to be alone.

autumn shades

Leaves are beginning to change their colors :)

glass staircase

I rush up and down
On a spiraling glass staircase.
I move with the music-
Each interval a step,
Each long note a landing.

Light on my feet
As if I were floating on air,
I ascend and descend.
Quickly and skillfully,
Full of grace.

Notes scattered across a page,
Footsteps light and gentle.

The sound grows and swells,
Then-
A hush.

A flurry of movement,
A moment of rest.

Like a spiraling glass staircase
The sounds are delicate,
Yet strong.
Soft, but shining.

Small and sparkling,
Grand and full.

angry

Sometimes angry feels a whole lot like sad.

I don't know which one comes first.

I only know it hurts.

And I don't want to be angry.

And I don't want to be sad.

I'm just so tired.

Sad is so big and so heavy.

And anger is a prison cell.

I desperately need to escape

But I can't get away

From the reality that I live inside

From the person that I live inside

And I fight and kick and scream

And tear at the bars

Tear at my skin

Try to leave

But where can I go?

There is nowhere for me.

So the anger must be suppressed.

The fire must burn to embers

Until there is nothing left.

Nothing but a big empty hole.

And sadness floods the cell.

Because ignoring it doesn't take it away.

in sweet september

In sweet september

Repeat, remember

What's new, what's borrowed

What's true and true tomorrow

September air and autumn sun

The leaves will turn and colors run

She waited for some place to start

The colors ran off with her heart

And she knows how the seasons change

When only this hope remains

In sweet september

Repeat, remember

What's new, what's borrowed

What's true and true tomorrow

New beginnings, evening chill

Looking for some space to fill

She wanted sunshine, wanted cold

Something young and something old

And all things soon will grow cold and die

Still she knows what it is to be alive

In sweet september

Repeat, remember

What's new, what's borrowed

What's true and true tomorrow

In sweet september

Fires burn to embers

Softly, and fading

Love what's remaining