Saturday, August 21, 2010

In memory

Which page from your ancient past
Inspires this tear grandma?

Oh, little one, these days
My eyes have lost their bastion
My mind fools me into thinking
That the tears will hide
In the folds of my wrinkled face..
And no one will know they are still made..
But my little one can see them
So I should be more careful..

Or you could just share your story,
I am not little anymore you know..

To tell you the truth little one,
It is easier to feel the tears
Than to trace them back, to the ball of wool,
That the cat got his little string from..
It is not like you, with that boy who left last summer..
Leaving you so many tear stained pillows..
And that is the only thing your little mind
Has sewn together with tears..
It is so many years, so many people
That tears are easier to remember than them..

Why do you smile now grandma?
Who inspires this smile..

To tell you the truth little one,
All of those who brought that tear before..
So many of them, that it is just easier to smile
Than name them all!

Monday, August 16, 2010

Stories

Do you seek the freedom that I enjoy?

Yes, I do.
Your freedom to be a girl, a woman and a man..
At your own eccentric whim.
Your freedom to wake up and lie down in the sun..
Your freedom to have waffles for dinner
And a steak sandwich for breakfast
Your freedom to call anyone an idiot and move on..
Your freedom to be happy with your choice
And your freedom to change your mind,
When the happiness fades away.
I envy all of that.
And how about you? Are you happy?
You must find my restricted life quite silly..

On the contrary..
Sometimes I do feel
That someone should mark a square for me
And then I can be free in that boundary
Paint my little square the way I want
And enjoy the colorful security
Of having an entire square, just for me.
As long as I have a sky overhead
That has a few stars in it, not the whole galaxy.
As long as I can invite my friends to visit me..
I would be happy, knowing that there is a place
That completely belongs to me.
Being completely free is not easy.

I wonder if we could both move
A little towards each other..
A little closer, maybe just close enough
To hold hands across our boundaries..
Well, across my boundary..

No, I have a boundary too..
It is my mind and I like it a lot..
I try to control all the little things I can..
In order to have that boundary..
It doesn't work all the time
Sometimes the lines between pleasure and pain
Get frighteningly murky..
But every time you set a new boundary,
There comes a time, when you surely defy it.

Funny you say that, for I have none..
In my mind, I run free
I pack and move every hour
To a new reality, just for company..
I try and imagine what I could have done
Had I not been what I am today
And the possibilities astound me..
But every interlude comes back to
A more certain reality..
And my physical boundaries
Tease me.

But I must confess, I feel much better
Knowing that your freedom is not your slave..

And I think I am glad, that my boundaries
Are not glass-lined fences..

Just holding hands for comfort is enough
As long as we share our stories. :)