70 degrees today finds me in a tiny tank top and short shorts, my feet barefoot against the newly awakened ground, and the birds are orchestrating a song to announce the arrival of Spring at last. New shoots of twirling onion grass and Kentucky blue curl between my toes as I take a seat in a familiar spot by a favorite tree. The images painting pictures in my head are pure poetry but I can’t quite get them out and upon the virgin white canvases I have ready in my studio, so for now I bleed words loudly onto paper to heal the hurt in my heart and head.
A view of the cemetery across the way reminds me those collective granite and marble stones commemorate those mortal tomorrows that have already come to pass for some people and where they are now is known only to them, but I know their souls are somewhere. A new spring yellow daffodil blooms in an unbeautiful location right next to an air conditioning unit. Her brilliant bright yellow petals are a blaze with new life and promise which contrasts sharply against the stark grey cold manmade thing she grows next to. The metaphorical meaning all these things hold for me is almost breath-taking and powerful-I feel slightly rejuvenated and less depressed. I feel hopeful.
The cemetery, the daffodil, the birds, and spring all serve to remind me of the promise of new beginnings, new life, new hope, and new possibility. We are but a moment so we must not be afraid to live a moment. I have a second chance, in fact it must be realized that life is full of second chances and we mustn’t be afraid to take them, to live them, and to hold them tightly in our hearts. There is no certainty what the tomorrows could bring except promises of new possibilities, promises of awakening, and promises of a fresh start. A tomorrow could bring me the possibility of a new pair of arms to lose myself in. A tomorrow could bring me a new smile to turn my strung-bow lips upside down and fill my heart with warmth. I know for sure that in the tomorrows to come I want to live fully.
Today is a beautiful day and tomorrow even more so. Tomorrow I may find myself with a paintbrush in my hand once again, but today the words satisfy me enough. In between the blue flat lines of cheap notebook paper I lose myself with my thoughts and emotions. The descriptive words I write are cleverly designed to bury your eyes in my dark inks. Writers design words for intrigue because reality often times paints a different picture of our physical presence, sometimes rendering us in the cool dull colors of boring. On the outside we all look the same even if we look different because on the outside we are all human.
Tomorrow reminded me today that we are more than just that, so much more. My words and my artwork are the real pieces of me. My art and writing are creations born from something found in the very core of my being, my soul. Our skin is just the sheath that holds our soul and sometimes we forget to look more than skin deep when looking at other people. Though our surface flesh may at sometimes be sewn together rather rudimentary, we have to remember that there is so much more there than just want we see on the surface.
I know my outside may be seen as pretty to some but my outside is also far more boring than my inside. While walking barefoot and thinking about tomorrow today I realized that I exist in the same way you do, as a human soul trapped inside a layer of flesh hoping there are other people out there who can really see me, for me. We exist like a pebble in a brook that no one knows is there until they step on it. No one knows you are there until they see you, feel you, breathe you, and connect with you. My words and my artwork serve that purpose for me, they connect you to me, and they allow you to see me truly as I am meant to be seen, from the inside, not the outside. It is a concept that too many people don’t consider today in this fast paced world and blinded world.
I have also realized today that tomorrow reminds me that we are all living just to die into immortality, and mortal tomorrows remind us that the bones and flesh fall away so we may never truly vanish from the whispering winds of time. We die and are always reborn into something new, what that means to me may be entirely different to you, but in one way or another tomorrow reminds us all that we all have one thing in common…tomorrow , no matter how different our vision tomorrow may be!©2010 L.Warren
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