Life in Flat Colors

The sky shifts from sapphire to mortar, and we look sideways at the lingering cadmiums; longer than last year, most certainly, we’ll just have to wait to rake the rest. I’m painting life in flat colors these days, outlined in bubbling sections like hillsides of Fall foliage. I’m painting in watercolors, and learning to let go, powering up like a ninja kid, and remembering first emotions, maybe even wanting them back. Did I squander them then? Or am I simply freer now than then, and cyclically returning to a place of opening creativity and enthusiasm.

So there then, a 15 year old playing in the leaves, not worried down with the craziness of before, just all of myself running to meet Time in non-linear fashion, only now.

Again in the flat colors of adolescence, I’m reaching out in energetic grasps to people I care about. Someday, though, I’ll have to stop crying for those I want to save. I go so far as to think that I’m not one of those who would sacrifice themselves for another, when really I’ve sacrificed such a large chunk of existing to hoping, to believing in others; my family. I’ll have to stop crying about it one day, and just help, and just plain help. Maybe I could just admit that I’d miss my father if he died. I’d sing him a song, I’d tell him good bye in a way I’ve never been able to. There are those who I feel safest around, those who might get lost, and so I fear for them. They’ve given me a little home on earth with their company, and I want them to get out alive, I want them to be all the happy things I feel in them, to experience their own goodness, and take joy. Little family of dreamers, sometimes sitting in the dust, terribly loyal, resigned, but pulling on the plough of change anyway. One furough at a time, just don’t get lost, just don’t cry away your part to help them, just get stronger ninja kid.