Friday, May 01, 2015

pace yourself

Quiet lines, whispering ivy, silent tendrils black and silky.

I thought I knew you.

I've paced my life upon you.  An impartial metronome, pulsing, beating, defining, reminding.

Beliefs carved into ancient marble, patterns immortalized into timeless sound, stories told with forever paint on the walls of caves unexposed to the elements.

In my darkest moments, you are everything.  And in my purest, you are nothing.

Black earth, rich with minerals and gems worn to sparkling dust by time.

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