Magic

If everything is magic

Then my magic is in this:

Yesterdays sorrows

So easily melt

Into hopes for tomorrow

"I didn't wait for you
Because you didn't wait for me
And it seems like we're really through
Strange how I don't feel free

Sometimes I want you here
Sometimes I want you there
Maybe I live in fear
Maybe I just don't care

And my head feels confused and distracted
And my heart feels so empty
There's no excuse for the way that I acted
You are the one for me

I wait for things to change
Cause they start to slip away
I know that I've caused you pain
That's why it's hard to stay


And my head feels confused and distracted
And my heart feels so empty
I'm not ashamed of the way that I've acted
You are the same as me."

And I will listen

To every song you've sent

over

and over

Until you decided

To call me back.

Cars aren't Contagious

I.

Cars aren't contagious

But if they were,

I'd want you to send yours

To where I am

I'd want it infected,

With everything that ails you

And everything

That you have been cured from

Fill it with all you hate

And all you love

And send it across these two thousand miles

Cars aren't contagious

So mine wont hurt you

When it comes to find you

So very far away

You'll need it

While I go through yours

And study

Everything you have felt

I'll fill mine with joy

And laughter

And hope to fill the time while I'm away

Can you record

All that you have seen

In this car of yours?

And I will play it

On repeat

As I go through the days

While I lay in bed

Filled with the contagiousness of you

And watch your world

Dive slowly by

II.

Cars aren't contagious

But I've found,

That you have infected me

With all that you are

You have completely 

Invaded my heart and soul

Like a virus

That can't be cured

You fill my waking thoughts

And dreams

With images of you

Cars aren't contagious

So I'm surprised,

When I grow sicker

Day by day

Life could be

So much easier in every way

If you were here

With me everyday

So I'll fill my time

And life

With waiting for you

Can you drive

Faster than you ever have

To meet me here?

And I will keep you

Here with me

For the rest of time

While we live

Filled with unending love

And see the world

Go driving by

Of Fifty Years

I remember the days

When you cut it twice

And it was still too short

Those fingers that have been hacked

And sawed

And bruised

They created beauty

If all weddings

And wishes

Continued on together

I remember the days

Cooking together

Side by side in the kitchen

Those dishes that have been envisioned

And perfected

And served

They create a family

If all of us tried

And triumphed

Over our shortcomings

I remember breakfast

Always on the table

And a good book

Always within reach

I remember digging in the sand

Time draining with every shell

And sailing on the sea

Time fleeing with the sun

Memories

Grouping together

Forming a picture

Focusing all the pieces

To the center

Of fifty years

Together

To my dear Grandparents who have been married for fifty years. I hope someday I can say the same. I love you both so very much.

Love is an imperative

"...this is who Pen had always been, a person who believed that people who loved each other were different from everyone else, from the world in general, exempt from the usual pressures of time and change, of growing older or of growing up. When it came to love, Will's friend Pen was that rare and dangerous thing: a true believer."

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     "Of course, there are situations i which it's the wrong choice, " Pen went on, "for the same reason that anything is the wrong choice: you hurt people, you break promises. Although I suppose that not everyone would agree with that."
     "Maybe not."
     "But if you're not hurting anyone, then I think you have no choice but to, well, honor it."
     "Honor? What do you mean honor?"
     "Acknowledge it. Follow it. Chase it. Hold on to it. Whatever."
     There was a silence on the other end of the line, during which Pen watched the ladybug fly, a black blur, from the lampshade to the curtain of the window next to the bed.
     Will said, "All right, I give up."
     "What?"
     "I'm not getting it. Your pronoun reference."
     "What are you talking about?"
     "The 'it.' I need a real noun. The right choice, the thing you follow, hold on to, et cetera."
     "Love," said Pen impatiently. "What else would I be talking about?"
     Another silence.
     Finally, Will said, "So you're saying, 'Love wins, automatically.'"
     "No. Well, maybe. Except that makes it sound easy when it's not. Or not most of the time. It's stringent. Exacting," said Pen. "I think love is an imperative. It obligates you."

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     "And I'm not just talking about being in love. I mean any kind of love. You don't mess around. You don't walk away. You can't."
     "Can't. Can't is hard-core."
     "It's what we're here for," explained Pen. "It's what we're for."


-Falling Together

From Planes and Trains and Buses

I am swimming in that place between grief and joy. The waves of sorrow crashing onto the shores of excitement. I am trying to catch one in, be pushed onto the shore before this sorrow overcomes me and I sink and sink until all I see is sorrow. But I don't want to travel so far that I forget the land I have swum from. Can I keep the excitement, remember the sorrow, but not feel the sorrow? How do I build a house close enough to see the waves, yet far enough to feel no pain? Where can I place my roots so that they can still travel far, without leaving where they've been? Can the past and future collide into a perfect present? I make it to the shore and walk away from the tumultuous surf. Where will I go now? For I know I cannot always stay on this sand. This excitement will not always remain. And someday I will head back out into the sea, through sorrow, to find the next joy.