Winter's Breath
This is my blank page; this is my manifesto.
As time continues to draw away years from my time here, I sit and I ponder what the meaning of my life is, and what steps I have taken to accomplish it.
Am I halfway there? Am I lost and no longer on track? Or have I completed my destined path, and can now live Freely?
Can anyone live freely?
It is late, and again my eyelids continue to protest the act of sleep. They seem to be lighter than ever, a typical symptom of this hour, and I am no step closer to achieving the sweet, comforting love of rest.
My window is cracked open, just enough for the cool breeze to reach her hand inside and tickle the spaces in between my fingers. I hold her hand as I lay my palm up on the chilled ceramic window sill, focusing on her soft touch trailing up and down my warm skin. I love her, and I always have, but yet I seldom ever see her.
She makes me look deeper in, invoking me to scrutinize myself and my choices. Have I made the right choices? Is it too late to turn back? Honestly, I don’t know! I don’t know and it is a trepidatious thought that continues to darken my heart. In a summer days heat, if I were to think like this I would surely suffer. I’d hide under my sheets, dampening them with tears and sweat—but no. She is here, as she always is during deep times of reflection. She helps me feel at peace; she gives me hope.
I have made mistakes, and I have learned from them. As of right now, I am focusing on letting go of the demon of regret, and focusing on the light of learning from darkness. Everyone has blemishes, and everyone experiences their one form of agony. I realize now I just need to delve deep into myself and listen to the little murmurs of my pain—it is there that I will find answers.
…and now I hear her whisper, but not with my ears. I felt her, as I always do. Right here, at the very tips of my fingers. She guides my hands, encouraging them to kiss the keys of the keyboard. Tick by tick, she talks to me. The spirit in her flows through my being, intertwining with my own. And as they dance together under the stars in the chambers of my heart, I am inspired.
And against all known logic of nature, somehow her cool breath warms my chest. I’m inflated with her love as I once again look deep into my own self. I now realize what stings me most, and what I need to release in order to live freely—or at least unbounded. I need to reconnect with Him.
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