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When you raise your head to the uprising sun, to the immense possibilities of a new tomorrow, chances of being blinded by brilliant rays remain a definite consequence? The bright, optimistic vision of life seems too much like elusion to the reality we refuse to recognize. Over time, we will recognize. Time qualifies the sweetest love, the strongest friendship, the kindest trust. Never had it promised actuality. It is but a nonexistent ideal existing to show the nothingness in the measure of being. It serves to suggest the best of life but very likely even more, the ugliest pattern in the complex compartment of the human brain. Time flavors the past, ignores the present, and carefully crafts the trap rooted from love, flourished in friendship, and nourished by trust--all concealed in the folds of the future. Had we not been warmed by the photographs of these caring emotions, it is impossible to cuddle our nurtured treasure: betrayal. I clench it, oh do I clench it...because I already found what I cherish most; because I found the Reason to trust with the complete state of honesty. I have found it...my treasure. The photo album, the pages, I see them flipping back faster, and faster, and faster, and dissolve. Blank. White. The absence of all color. I clench on, clench on, clench on to the very tail of swiveling smoke dissolving quickly. I believe, I believe with the strongest faith, I believe in you, you who compose my love, my friendship, my trust, and... And so they come back...slowly, the smoke retraces its silky path, slowly to my fingertips. I bring my hand down, lowering it as the smoke slides down my fingers, to the palm of my hand. I hold my palm upward and gazed upward, watching it dance sweetly, twirling down with pure grace, easy, soft, and relaxed. Enthralled I am by the hypnotic pace. I try to remember what I did not let leave...and suddenly, the spell shattered, the silky fabric of gentleness destroyed with a shrieking sound of cloth being ripped and stredded. I remember. The smoke whisk down incoherently, faster, and faster, and faster, and dissolve. I remember all, swirls of laughter, of hardships, of fears, of relief, of appreciation. Complete. Black. The unity of all color. Still, I must clench it. Why must I? No one escapes Time, or the trail it leaves. I embrace it; Be trail of time. |