And Then

And then, sometimes, life takes you by surprise and the things you hoped for work out even better than you had dared to imagine.

Counting Down

I hate to admit it but I'm counting down the days until classes are done and my life can calm down.

Be

Be
Be at peace
Be where you are
Be yourself
Be in yourself
Be alive from belief in your dreams
Be love for those who need it
Be strong
Be open
Be free
Be

Little Things

Enjoying the sound of the rain on my window.  :)

Moments

Each moment is made up of energy that we have chosen to spend in a certain way.

Today I had many moments of laughter; I spent my energy on being joyful.

Those moments make up hours, which make up days, which make up weeks, months, and years.

Those moments make up a lifetime. 

I want to spend as many as I can on being full of joy.

Memory Lane

Long and winding,
Ever growing;
Fondly recalled
Or shaken out, dusted off,
And tucked away again.

Smiles,
Laughter,
A tear or two,
Growth,
And mostly joy.

Mine is a road
Filled with light
And I am grateful
That it continues
To help me see the way forward.

Flowering III

"Gemma, they're doing it again."

Gemma turned on her heel to face the troupe of deer that had been following about ten feet behind them.  "GO.  A-WAY!" The lead buck seemed to stare at her in indignation for a moment and then turned into the direction of the neighborhood park, followed by three does and two white-spotted fawns.  "You too," she snapped at the two grey rabbits nibbling at grass that had sprouted from a crack in the sidewalk.  They just kept on eating.  "I'm sorry Rhea," she sighed.  "I really don't know what's going on."

"That's obvious," Rhea quipped.  "I'm guessing your plant arms haven't gotten any better either?"

"I figured the long sleeves in the middle of August made it obvious?"  Despite Amy's daily reassurances that it was likely just a weirdly rare medical side effect from some antibiotics she had been taking, Gemma's arm sprouts had continued to grow.  Each of her wrists was now encircled with a purple flowering vine and the original sprouts from her inner elbows were continuing to spiral up her upper arm, gaining a few centimeters every day.

"Did you really try cutting it off?"

"I told you, I did!  It just hurt like a bitch, but the vine wouldn't even give."

"It's just so insane."  Rhea shook her head slowly, "And now the animals."

"Trust me, I'm aware," Gemma groaned.  "They started showing up two days ago.  Wednesday morning I opened my eyes and the buck was just staring into my bedroom window.  And now the rabbits try to get in whenever I open the front door."

"Did you try carrots?"

Gemma smirked in spite of herself.  "What is this, Looney Tunes?"

Rhea grinned back.  "Some version of it."  They walked a little further, not noticing the ever-thickening flock of birds on the telephone wires overhead.  "What are you going to do?"

"God I have no idea."

"I think it's time to go see---"

"No way."

"Gem."  Rhea grabbed her hand, tugging her sweatshirt sleeve up just enough for the flower petals to show.  "This. is. not. normal.  Or even ... human.  We need to go see your aunt."  Her sky blue eyes bore into Gemma's deep brown ones.

Gemma sighed deeply.  "Fine.  We'll go see Aunt Nix."

White Noise

My mind is white noise
Spinning in two directions
Unable to steady
Or settle down

And I Quote

Being human -- it's impossible!

Late

3/15/15

Had the thought, "If I was as wealthy as I am tired, I'd be a rich woman."

But wealth is as transient as fatigue. Or thirst. Or hunger.  It's a basic need that is only ever momentarily satisfied.

What matters more? Love.  Peace.  Dreams for the future.  Even these things can fluctuate. Even these things change. But to truly have these things means never losing them. The same love, peace, and dreams can never be gained back in the same way.  They are precious.

Just reflecting.

Reflect

He recoiled violently from the train window, jerked from his late night stupor by the sight of his own skeleton staring back at him.  The other two people in his car didn't seem to notice.  What a dream.

He almost laughed.  He was actually scared to look again.  Inch by inch he traced his gaze up the seats in front of him, over, over, up to the edge of the windowsill.  Shock.  Nearly sick.  Three human skeletons sat in the occupied seats of the cold, rattling car.  The lights flickered from a dead spot in the tracks.  The skeletons flickered, too.

Now he couldn't look away.  He raised his hand, slowly; the bones did not.  Relief.  Overwhelming relief.  It's not me.  It's not real.  Dreaming.

But it stood as he stood.  It floated through the other windows as he headed to the doors.  It remained still as the doors whooshed shut in front of him.  It wavered in the passing windows as the train started up again.

Then he was alone, staring at the spot where his reflection had been.

Of all the known things

Of all the known things
In this wide old world
The one thing I know
Is that life always has
Is now
And will keep on
Changing

Music

Oh to soar on the wings of a tone.
Nothing compares to such freedom of the soul.

I Am

Today I am
I simply be
And let things
Occur around me

Mountains

The mountains are in my veins
The cool fresh air is the sap of my life force
The pines sing to my soul
The ancient roots planted themselves in my core before I knew them
The sea is my heartbeat
The unceasing rhythms give life to my being
The mountains pines and sea are my home
The mountains pines and sea are within me.

Home is

where the dog is.

Observation

When I walk, I like to tread as silently as possible.

Feelings

Oozing up from a crack

In the surface of my denial --

The fact that I care what you think

And that I'm hurting over

Playing the fool

In spite of my constant self-reassurance

That I'm better off without you.

Day Off

Slept in, voice lesson
Good friend time and beer gardens
Nice President's Day

----------
Edited because that original haiku was completely and utterly wrong.

Traitor

Traitor, William.  Age 17.  Brown hair, yellow eyes.  Citizen Level: 3.
---------------

They changed our name to Traitor when my great-grandfather defected from the City in the Great War.  He was never captured, but his family didn't receive his coded warning letter until it was too late.  The police stormed my great-grandmother's house in the pre-dawn of a frigid winter morning, seized the family, and burned the house to the ground.  They were taken to the refugee housing, where traitors' families were re-programmed into the City files through blood tests, fingerprints, and eye scans.

In the years after the Great War, the refugee camps were slowly converted into Citizen Level 3 housing units.  My grandfather shared a small bedroom with his younger brother and three sisters while their mother slept in the living room on the couch of their tiny apartment, which they were granted seven months after the Peace Treaty had been enacted.  "It was a blessing," Grandfather would grumble, nodding to himself, "We got the rooms just before the year's first snow.  Maddelena would have froze to death."

There used to be Traitor Families all over, especially in the Level 3 neighborhoods.  There are still about twenty kids who carry the name in our Village school.  But most families have been able to change their names back.

Traitor Families are required to send their male heirs to the front, until three of them die in service.  Once they have made their sacrificial contribution to the City, their surname is reversed and they can work towards advancing their Citizen Level.  My grandfather was sent to the front along with his brother.  He was almost killed in a skirmish on the Outer Borders, but the rescue teams reached him in time and revived him from his coma after three days.  He was discharged for injury, though not with honor like the rest of the survivors.  His brother was killed in the same skirmish.

My father met my mother when they were sixteen, here in this same Village.  They wed in secret, an hour after his eighteenth birthday and with a foraged note of permission from her parents, who never would have approved of a Traitor marriage.  He was drafted hours later.

Traitor or not, all draftees are given a week before they are required to attend basic training.  A week after their wedding, he left her, pregnant and nearly penniless. Six months later, he was dead.

I grew up without my father.  I am my mother's only child - my family's only male heir.

I am the last Traitor of our line.  Tomorrow is my 18th birthday.