A Letter to My Lover.
January 6, 2017
The plans all disintegrate.
May 20, 2016
Remembering, and the unbearable burden of staying still.
May 13, 2016
Ashley Aarti Cooper
There is no way to predict upon which lands we will build our shelters,
or which waters will fill our wells and bathe our babes.
Try as we might to rearrange the stars or meddle with our tea leaves,
all we serve is to bring laughter to the lips of Fate,
and the planets continue their orbits.
No matter how neat and tidy our calendars,
and how well-penned our budgets,
They will be burned within the fires that warm future nights,
and blow as ashes into the atmosphere.
We can lay our bricks and dream up our dreams,
and still nothing we try to make certain is guaranteed to be.
For we can till our land and dirty our hands
and still not force forth from the earth
that which she does not yield willingly.
At least not for very long.
We certainly can chase upon the heels
the exasperated future that just does not want to be.
We can set upon the hunt
to trap the partners and unborn children never meant for us.
We can live lives we steal,
and sleep in beds never meant for our bodies,
and we can leave our footprints where we were never meant to tread.
We can do all these things with our strong wills,
and the magic of our manifestation.
We can pat ourselves on the back and bow to our idols,
and be grateful for this reality that we worked so hard to wring from the folds of existence.
But eventually it will all come tumbling down.
The breeze will carry melodies from other dimensions
that know the song that fits the curves of our hearts.
The moon will shine an eerie light upon the gardens
and shadows will take the shapes of all we should have sown.
Our dreams will carry messages
and we will attempt to shake them off come dawn.
Inner voices will irk and torment us,
they will tear at the paper towns we construct.
The reasons we reason will continue to reason
but they will soon echo in their shells.
And hopefully Fate will be kind to us,
as we release our tight grasp and the blood returns to our makers hands.
With all the benevolence of good fortune,
we will have moments in the sunshine
and take deep, full breaths that expand beyond
the confines of this physical body.
And we will laugh at how twisted and wild and nonsensical
the roads to unforeseen futures are.
We will throw our heads back with eyes wide open and laugh
at how foolish and proud and naive we once were
to think that we could plan anything as gorgeous as this present right here.
With a smile on our lips and wrinkles by our eyes
we will know.
We will know that the best plans disintegrate into the ethers,
and the Flow can never be altered no matter how hard we swim against it.
The tides will continue their mysterious dance with the night time Queen,
and whole lives will be given and taken and rebirthed into something more or less elegant.
We will know that no matter how vehemently we try to do whatever we are trying to do,
at the end of days, we will all fall back..
and be carried into the Infinite dream.
January 2017 (1)
May 2016 (2)