Contemplation

It surely, and quite clearly now, at least to myself, has reached the point of necessity. It, is the same sort of self disclosure I was being preoccupied by for the past week or so. A necessity it is in the sense that I have to exercise to be able to chapter a day.

I took, or rather suddenly found, myself to the shore, believing I would find inspiration that would resonate along with chords I strummed and notes I picked. It was that time when the sun’s so awkwardly hinting its setting beyond and past the horizon. I stopped playing what I was playing, and this was because I felt I had a similar feeling some years ago.

I felt lost and not particularly bothered about it. I stared into space, shiftless, though looking for something within that particular void. I waited for something to happen, like I did that time a few years back when something did in fact happen, but nothing happened this time.

I had lost my loneliness. My loneliness that I shared with those who heard the trembling silience I held in my chest. I lost it somewhere along the way back to my old life. The life that I’m living now. When I had it, life spoke to me, the grass and the river and the trees and the air spoke to me. They were all boding a well and divine forthcoming presence.

She was wishfully and suddenly, then, at once, present, before my eyes. She filled the void I wandered about and wandered about me. She took steps towards me, she danced and never really walked. She spoke very lightly, sang for most of the time, and sat quietly infront of me. Most of our cherished conversations where when we said nothing at all. Life, around her, seemed to make way for a presence of uncommon grace. She played with daisies. She played with her long curly hair. She played and I played and she sang and I stopped playing.

That was a time when I still had my loneliness; when I was still lost. It was perfectly fine, for I was constantly lost and she constantly found me. I was always lonely and she always found herself company to me.

Now, though, I am surrounded by people. I am not seen or heard. I have not blushed in a while.

The sun has long set now and the sky’s a clumsey grey, hazey, and dusty, streching to the grey sea. For a moment I believed if I look up I’d find her before me. She wasn’t there. I took out the delicate remains of some years old daisies and washed them with tears of regret.