four leaf clover

She never cried and almost never complained.
I guess that’s one reason why I was initially drawn to her,
she was my opposite.
She always represents fun days, warm nights, tranquility and lullaby’s.
As long as I can remember, each day with her was beyond fun, beyond silly and beyond any boundaries we had set.
All visits were worth remembering.
Always.

As I get older, and a little more tired, and a little more apprehensive,
about the kindness of strangers, uncertainty and unknowns,
I always know that she is familiar,
we are familiar,
and we have no secrets
from each other.

On days when I am broken hearted and broken down,
I know I am always welcome at her house.
When times are their toughest and true friends are hard to find,
I know I can always call on her,
and no matter her schedule, she will find time to listen.
Her kindness is always there to wash over me, making me forget,
at least momentarily,
whatever my sadness, tears and loneliness are.
With her, I am never truly alone.
She always offers a soft place to land.

When the sun is at its brightest, and nothing bad can enter into my peaceful place,
I also think of her, and visit.
With every bit of good news, I instantly think of her,
her company, her companionship and her consistency.
On these days we laugh, and play and enjoy the simplicity of each other,
purely and without abandon.
She always offers a soft place to sit.

As life goes, and time flies, I realize I have not seen her
in quite some time.
I pack my bag, grab my board, put the top down in the Wrangler and speed off down the all too familiar road,
to see her.

The moment I arrive though,
I know she isn’t happy.
Her mood is different…. dark and stormy, and even I,
her closest friend, dare to get too close.

As I get make my way to her, my heart begins to race.
I can’t remember ever feeling nervous around her before.
I inch my way closer,
I am now,
close enough to see her cuts,
close enough to see her pain.

As I get even closer to her, I can see that she has been beaten.
She has been bruised, and hurt.
For the first time she is unwelcoming and distant.

How long have I been gone?

She never cried, until that day,
and as her giant tears wash up on the black beach,
I feel her pain so deeply I sit on the hardened, cold sand,
littered with waste,
and listen to the painful tears, slide down my cheek.

Together, as friends do, we sit with each other,
offering the only comfort we truly can….
listening, love and loyalty.

As her cries hang in the air,
and then crash down,
with pain and rage,
I can only pray that her bleeding will stop.

Past days have found me with her,
sharing tears,
and now I have come to her,
and wonder if either of us will ever stop
bleeding
oil.

I look up to the sky, as I have so many times before
while in her house,
and ask for help.

As her pain becomes my own,
I begin to feel heavy and motionless
and I fear that I too
am dying.

I cry out but hear only my heart beat racing pounding I try to look ahead but see only thick, heavy air and my cries are drowned out by the angry tide crashing in pulling out whatever it can I look to the sky for help and feel my lungs heavier and heavier and fear this is the end I can no longer move ladened in thick oil and pain and anger I try to crawl away but realize there is nowhere to go

How long have I been gone….

Peace, Chris

www.fourleafclover.us

PS The next essay will include a contest with a wonderful prize from energy muse jewelry! Get your thinking caps on!!

PPS ALSO, I added lots of new pictures to the website! Check them out!!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 1st, 2010 at 5:52 pm and is filed under Essays.



You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.