Walls surround me; people tell me, even ask me where I’ve been. I can’t find the answers, or the reason from within. If home is the place where you lay your head, I’ve got no room left for what goes on when the walls are closing in.
No longer seeking safety or salvation, but simply common ground. There were never second chances the first time around. It’s been years since I have come home, though I’m not without my blame, I’m not without my judgment and not without my shame.
No reminders. No residue. No solutions, nor the pain.
More a feeling than a destination, home is not about geography. Even less the physical location. The whisper of home gets hard to understand, even mundane decisions become more difficult when you take life in your own hands.
Driving forward, moving slowly, the place between here and this. Listen to music you chose, the next track on the disc. Melancholy melody, even lyrically it stokes a chord. We all remember taking chances, but too often forget about the risk.
Of course I’m still dreaming of home, it helps me pass the time. Past mistakes and memories, I own them; they are all mine. My mind often loaded with gentle thoughts of you, yet it still provides no direction of where I’m going to.
If a star should fall tonight would you even notice? Beyond the bandwidth of your rationalizations, a succession of contradictions and explanations, would you mind or will it matter if a star fell to the earth? Would you even hear the shatter?
Millions of people, like constellations, dealing with insurmountable issues of trust and faith, and complex relations, whosoever can take the time, find the conscious mind to pay attention to an innocuous occasion like a falling star, or the possibilities of such.
How can we take seriously that which happens in the heavens while this planet demands so much attention to serious matters. Somewhere, nearby, a neighbor screams, the night is not quiet as it once seemed. If you slept through it all will the stars even fall? Who would even notice or wake to the sound? Does it even matter when you are not around?
Always in darkness, we know not how to embrace it, or to end it. Should a star fall from the sky would you know who might have sent it? Are you willing to guess, are you willing to receive it? As we stay, as we do, entangled in temporary lives filled with perpetual motion, a star falls, and we seldom heed the sight or take time to amend our emotions. All of us stuck in the middle of something, nearer to the end, always in the darkness.
When the star falls, cutting through the clouds, diamond-sharp edges tearing at the canvas of your semi-comfortable existence, releasing the inevitable. Blood drawn, spilling out, time and again. Would you recognize what is hidden, or understand the mind a falling star can damage?
Your soul or conscience telling you what you don’t want to hear, thoughts teeming with contempt and abject fear. Wide-eyed awake still with no sight, making excuses to yourself for excusing another life. The galaxies you once noticed have turned their backs on you. One star, any star, any star will do. If a star falls from the sky, and it will, will it come close.
Darkness ever strong, discomfort goes too long, likewise your shame. You can’t forgive your silence, or forget your indiscretions, as you shoulder all the blame. Destined to repeat past mistakes, time and again, when the star falls before you, will you recognize the pain?
Should a star fall from your life, another luminary gone, and so too the brightness, will you slip back into the bottle? It has comforted you before. Can you close up all the curtains, again, and hide behind your door trying to banish all reminders. Will you try to validate your presence with another hand, replacing thoughts of how it happened with those you cannot understand. If a star falls in the night will you be awake enough to feel it?
Let them fall, slipping hastily through the air, down, down, crashing down, let them see you there. Perhaps they will stick around, for now is never what was planned, and you know it rarely it is. If a star falls from the night is it worthwhile trying to find it?
We walk like thieves through sunlight and shadows, attempting to pickpocket the colours temporarily brightening our surroundings. Shades of burgundy, fuchsia, and tangerine. More than yellow and orange. Too soon this will be gone. It is like this each October. Random flowers still trying. Windblown leaves over cracked asphalt, in days soon to be wrinkled and weary brown, and then unnoticeable. It’s only natural. Dew is soupy on the windshield in the morning, and soon we shall see our breath. The aura of Autumn; cooler breezes; short days, and those shorter yet to come. We move briskly through this season, trying to keep up with the changes, but our soul wants to slow, to even find the stillness we avoid in hectic summers. We seek comfort in woolly sweaters and the textures of our domain. The scarves and gloves that have been hiding at the back of the closet suddenly appear on the bureau, as if waiting to be pressed into action. We want to enjoy the present, but, habitually, fear the harsh winter ahead. It always is. Within our homes we organize, knowing we will spend more time inside. It is nesting. It’s natural. It is our way. We seek familiarity. Even the music we listen to takes on a different tone. We react, or relate, to more contemplative lyrics, find melody in varied time signatures, or recall certain movements that harbour feelings of family, and justice, and togetherness. Even if we feel alone. Days move with the voracity of a poem, and we hunger for a place, a person, or a thing. Something. Outside trees shed their leaves, and birds say farewell as they follow familiar routes. Naturally. It is time, and we watch it fly by. This is us. This is now. We look around, and we look ahead.
How do you sleep at night? Are you comfortable? Do you feel safe? Did you lay in bed and listen to the sounds of the gentle rain, or did late night news have you considering how fragile this society has become. Maybe you were restless and thinking the mortgage payment might bounce, or car payment? Were you wondering where your child was, or if the forecast might change plans for Sunday’s golf game? There is so little of this summer-like weather remaining. Have you noticed the chill as you open the car window to pick up your morning coffee? Do you feel guilty about the caloric count of that extra donut? Did you pack a lunch, or will you order in or take-away. Did you wake up refreshed and ready to tackle the difficulties at work, you know, the issues of which we often complain? Can you think of things you would rather be doing? Are you planning ahead, past these day-to-day inconveniences, or are you okay living with the changes imposed on all of us? How are you affected by injustice and inequality, or is it somebody else’s problem? Are you wearing a mask to protect others and your self? We all should feel the impact of what life is throwing at us. Do you understand we all feel it differently? Or is that any of your concern? Shouldn’t it be?
