So often, too often it’s chewed away.
In the forest or on a city street,
there is constant chipping.
Something stronger or something preying on the weak, equally unnerving.
Foundations forever removed,
Facades continually replaced,
I wait for the opportunity of new life.
Fruitlessly she danced,
Encouraged by unknown love,
There was no music.
Inspired by:
“And in the end, we were all just humans… Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.” F. Scott Fitzgerald
Fall is coming, all that was lush and green will fall under death’s trance.
A temporary respite from the living. A momentary invitation to dance in death’s shadow.
Does nature get a chance to know what lies beyond? Is that why it fights so hard every spring?
If given the choice to know all, to have all the mysteries revealed I’d fight like hell.
No mysteries- No satisfaction.
Sometimes even the light needs support.
Nothing more solid than an old tree firmly rooted along the riverbed.
It offers a platform, a blank canvas for the light to manipulate.
With each passing moment the sun sets further to the west allowing the light to come to the forefront.
Then and only then,
If and only if
you are willing.
The sparkle will show the unrepeatable contours of the bark.
Easily missed but it’s shelter allows for everything else.
Never underestimate the shell in nature, or
in you.
Keep walking uphill.
On the horizon is worth.
Find the next incline.
This past weekend I got to spend the night up in Steamboat Springs. One night was worth the three hour drive. There is just something special about being up there. It’s more than the altitude, the overflowing rivers, and the unimpeded view of the stars.
It’s calming, it’s rejuvenating, it helps a person re-align their priorities to start again.
Cheers to the next moment, photograph, and story.
Each day when I wake up I know there will be a path waiting for me.
Some days I get to chose it, others I don’t.
Today was smooth but tomorrow can’t promise me anything.
Sometimes I walk along the edges in hopes of seeing something, anything.
Each night when I go to bed I close my eyes dreaming of the one path I can’t find.
As long as my eyes open each morning I will go to bed hopeful.
In the meantime I will enjoy the walk.
Exhaustion overtakes creation.
What’s more important survival or exploration?
It feels unjust to choose-
Both lead somewhere, so at some point you have to pick a destination.
Anywhere, anywhere but here.
HIKE. BIKE. DRINK.
College Level Drinking, Elementary Level Writing
A Poet's Journey by Manivillie Kanagasabapathy
An introvert's guide to the human experience
Literary.Land.of.Alysia 