I went to bed early again. The rain was coming down and I didn’t want to push through the cold world. Sunny days are long gone. I have been angry for so long.

Why? Earlier the sky was blue. I  saw the trees get colder but their life-force kept them experiencing every day—each as the other.

I am pleased when I see a bird dancing in the sky. What I hope for is that I could take my own flight. I can’t stand for the changes to delay. Anything is going to be better. I need plenty of time and then I could take my own flight. I wait so that I can enjoy the fruits of all of the life around me.

The alarm was raucous today. I have plenty to say but I don’t want to get up. Wait for me please. I’ll be in your arms of love soon.

I write the song in a strange key. My life skips some tones. It lands hard on the remainder. Everything is an opening and even the chorus is open like the sky.

I have colors to paint the story. I choose the ones that are happy. Life is hard because I don’t know how far I must continue. I learn from the book and look at its margins. They point my brush and I let my hand follow.

If only there were a new beginning. I know everyone would see it coming. I can be frozen by a spectral light. I am walking through the corner of the garden. I know I could build a monument that everyone will admire. The trees sound softly now as they sway with their private songs.

I draw hope from deep in my soul. I am looking for yet another morning. Night passes slowly, too slowly, when I have long dreams. But those dreams show me how to live; how to get ready for life again.

My words are hard to say. I wonder why. I have no purpose today. Walking through the yard, I was slipping within my heart. I get disoriented and confused. It is not my fault that I have been sick.

The words everyone has to say are hard for me to hear. I could only understand their secrets if the rain would not hide them. The sun will rise if I wait. It could only push away the dark moments briefly. I walk out and no one sees me. I am not invisible but I just can’t leave any images about the way I live.

They say tomorrow will be cold. I will wear my coat and hat. Perhaps they will remember that the shadow does not have to come back.