Dilettante Life – A Writer's Space
Observing Life & Sharing Experiences
Numb fingers and cracked
hands confront the icy rain.
The wind goes through my body
making fun of my layers.
Short gusts of breath float into the
air, the only warmth in my body
betrays me.
There’s a thirst for something hot
to drink. A desperate attempt
to reheat my guts.
Open the windows and let
the wind bring memories and farce.
Your hair blows in your face, shake it off.
Drink in the beat.
Speed up, and turn up the radio, let the volume lull you into a place of desire; a place of wonder and imagination.
Tell the truth, you’ve never wanted me.
Sigh, sing and swallow. It’s just a moment,
it’s just a fantasy. The world outside is just a snap.
You are here by yourself and with the world,
all at the same time.
Dreams are put together in a moment.
Dream big.
Tree tops bend to welcome
the wind.
Howls of laughter fill
the waving branches,
leaves jumping.
How stoic the trunk remains,
standing straight with
defiance.
How dare the branches
play with the intruder ?
The sun fulfills most of its
needs.
Take water from the earth,
mix with light to grow.
The wind serves no purpose.
“We are Amused” cried the limbs,
for the trunk offers nothing
but buried root.
Look to the wind, and feel its
renewal. The bark is grateful
to be cooled.
A storm may quench the thirst,
but the air will bring a bluster
of pleasure.