Fair Flying

My heart is my palace where our soul flirts with malice. And there is nothing here aside from usual fear. My love is my anchor; our canvas not much blanker. My will is my power which outlasts every hour. You are, delicate star, all my joy by and by far. And here will always be our spitting epitome.

We wake up and we realize the day before this is over. We can never relive. We can never go back. There are great days, there are amazing days, and there are bad. That night of absolute joy and celebration with everyone you love? It has passed. That minuscule, miserable day that made you feel like oblivion itself? It's gone. So breathe deep and keep your head held high, because we're changing, we're shifting, and we're moving on, whether we want to or not.

I've always had mixed feelings about this holiday. Part of me thinks it's overly commercialized (as all holidays tend to be), and part of me thinks it's ridiculously adorable (that's the consumer in me). I'm kind of a sucker for cheesy cute things, even though that isn't always the case. I'm also a sucker for romance, despite my lack of experience with such an obscure notion. However, I do know what love feels like, and it's probably one of the best feelings in the world. I'm not talking romantic love, with chocolates and flowers and kisses and cuddles. I'm not talking lust, either. None of that 50 Shades of Bullshit. No drama, no ridiculous fantasies or expectations to fulfill. All of that is fine to an extent, but people tend to miss the point. In my opinion, Valentines Day is about much more than just romantic love. It's more than just candy and cuddles or cute messages to loved ones via social media. There's an essence ...

There is no wasteland As pretty as this Where ships lie in piles On pale crystal sand And taper to knees Of children younger Than I once was then In circles of trees. Where barrels and tons Mean “snow day!” for us; How does something big Turn to only one? It’s barren and fun At the same damn time While washed winds approach To break off a lung. When did something small Become everything- When it’s not really That barren at all?

Gentle falling snow, What have you done? Gentle falling snow, What have you become? Is there order to this chaos that falls beneath my feet? Is there lord there in malice who tends to slicking sleet? Gentle falling snow, What have you done? Gentle falling snow, it seems you have won. I’m fighting hard, my brothers, to make sense of all this white; I’m fighting hard, my sisters, against the black that burns bright. Tender falling snow, What have you done? Quiet falling snow, Take flight under summer sun.

Some say it's peace that lingers here; Some say it's passion that glows clear, And I'll remember it always as something bright With hidden hopes for our eyes to fight Against the invasion of fear.

I stepped out into the snowy stillness and all I could feel was hope. I knew my whispers would be heard as shouts.  I let the wind carry my voice to the clouds. The stars would hear too, if they listened close, and the moon would bend her beams to shield us from snow. The sun was leaving, but he left the skies teeming. The sun has left for now, but he will always be there to beckon us home.