Figured I might as well share some of the words I put to paper. I don’t mind critique if you are kind about it. Writings after the jump.
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The moon is just a visitor
It’s strange to feel emotion for a cold and desolate rock, spiraling out into the cosmos. Still, I felt a pang of sorrow when I learned that the moon is moving away from the earth at almost two inches a year.
To me, it seems like two old friends growing apart, in cycles, after sharing their formative years. They go apart, growing distant, only to have the orbits of their lives bring them closer together, for a pass, and then… then they drift out again on paths that ultimatly keep them another inch and a half further away from each other.
I wonder now, with my new and deeper scientific understanding, if this distancing, this parting of ways, affects the tides. Do the Pacific and Atlantic abandon their banks by fractions of a centemeter each year? It’s saddening to imagine each high tide cresting infintesimally lower than the one before. It is as if Earth is showing its age.
Introspectivly, I wonder why we, as men and curious humans, must catalog and classify the nature of the world. It seems that doing so reveals sad and innsurmountable truths. We can never get the moon back, she is lost to us like a grain of sand dropped onto a beach. But, I resolve, reluctantly, that ignorance is not bliss and that we are better off informed of our situation. To understand is to move beyond the animal level of living and to contextualize our environment is enlightenment.
With all this in mind I cry. Gently, my tears raise the level of the ocean. Gently, I rise the tide a bit higher once more.
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Pretend you are water
Imagine yourself to be evaporating. Your body becomes a gas and drifts steadily up into the sky, up through the atmosphere. Below the world shrinks as you gain distance. From this new height, this new perspective, a whole new set of feelings stem. Isolation is embodied in a frosty chill that runs through your ethereal extremities. You feel the weight of the separation begin to bear on you; Mother Earth is calling you home. So, you solidify again, into raindrops. Your existence dangled across the sky in a thousand spherical droplets. You hang suspended, waiting. Tension mounts. More and more droplets collect. Like a symphony raising the tempo toward a crescendo your cloud gradually fills with fragments of moisture. Then you feel it. A tug. No, more imperceptible than that. Like someone touched your shoulder to make you silent. And with that touch you fall, hover almost, down toward the ground. It’s a long fall, gentle and relaxing. The ground approaches and then, splash. splash. splash. You’re coming down in droves sweeping toward the cracks and crevices in the dirt. At first the dirt holds tight, pulling moisture down, but then there is too much and the droplets form trickles that roll along the miniscule contours and curves of the ground. The trickles build into rivulets and you find yourself gaining speed as you wind down a hill. Down a hill and into a baby stream claiming dry rocks for it’s streambed. Now, you’re flowing over and under rocks, cascading down precarious fall, and foaming into white froth as you go. Twigs bar your path but they are no match for the building current and the force carries them away. Your stream meets its sister and now they surge forward together with you in their midst. Then a plunge and you’re in a much larger stream, no not a stream, a full fledged river that is pulsing down the hillside at the beck of gravity. And so you go, along with all the disparate droplets that now comprise your existence, as part of this new incorporating whole. Onward towards the sea, towards the ocean, towards the gentle calm of open waters and the peaceful consistency of the waves. You are a droplet in the ocean of the world but without you the stream would be dry and the river would sputter itself away into the sea which, in turn, would drain slowly into the dirt. So it seems then that if you are a droplet, you are the sea.
(Disclaimer: this second piece wasn’t proofread so that may account for any oddities)
