Moments

Moments

In my head there are moments, moments stored up with my memories and thoughts of yesterdays’ shadows that were stolen by the sinking sun. Moments like photographs, stilled in nostalgia and held up by frail strings of thought as precarious as a déjà vu and as easily let go as the dismissal of the short-lived recollection.

 You see, there are moments so perfect, so lovely, so heartbreakingly beautiful in their stillness, that it seems as though they pause in the middle of reality. Every one has experienced them. They’re the view at the top of the mountain, slowly being revealed as you climb the steep slope, the short moment of peace after tears have run dry and all that remains is silence.

They are the sleepy car rides at sunset on the beach, when gazes fall to the person you love. When all that is heard is the hum of the engine and the golden sunlight paints their face with a warmth that seems it could never be stolen by shadows. When, in the calm quiet of observation, you look on at their drowsy smile as their eyes are lit to melted sapphires and you see nothing in that moment that is of the world, only that moment.

These are the moments captured in hearts, that are pulled out on rainy days, in times when clouds bigger than our thumbs cover us. The still-frames that fill the albums in our heads that we can flip through every time we’re caught up in the boring books of things we think we need to know. 

 I mean moments like eye-contact with babies, the loud, immature giggles you get from just looking at your best-friend from across the room. The moments when the bass kicks in at just the right time and all there is to think about is moving limbs and staying in between the ceiling and the floor. 

Instances that mean something, times when there is more to what’s happening than what’s happening. Times when dollar signs mean nothing more than the s’s in ssshhh. When thought fails to freedom of feeling. When the borders we set up in our minds and souls let go and we run thought flocks of birds, we dance in waves, we sing at the top of our lungs in convertible cars going at speeds faster than our reasoning.

 These are the moments in my head, the moments I can’t let go of, out of fear that I would become ordinary, that I would lose touch of the beauty that exceeds the stale reality of dusk. For to forget these things would be to lose them and who would allow shadows that pleasure? 

Friend

They say a dog is mans best friend, with fun and games to be had
But my friend is much more than a partner in crime, a buddy, a pal, a comrade.


He listens to the songs I write without a judging word,
The tunes and lyrics no one else but him have ever heard.


I strum till mirrors have gotten bored, till walls have had their fill
But my friend, he lays there, quiet eyed, I know he never will.


Mornings when clouds seem brighter now than the night that has long gone
I awake to find him by my side, all night he stayed till dawn.


We walk along the empty paths and he is sure to guide my trail
Even when I see beyond him, he leads my feet from fail.


Never too tired to stay awake and keep me safe and warm 
From the monsters in the giant box that growl with threats of harm 


And when tears have wet  my saddened face, he kisses them away
Whispering things like love and joy, and ‘my friend it's all ok.’


There are times when he is the only ears for the shouts of my frustrations and fury
And he listens close to every one, and doesn’t blame me for my worries.


My dog, my friend, is my closest ally, in him I will always confide.
Because I know that he will always be there, bad songs and tears aside.