other bits of blog

Thursday, August 4, 2011

summer tidbit

It's been so long, and there's so much that's happened, and there's no time to talk about any of it, really. So I'm not going to. Though I do have all the time in the world, I'm not really using it. It's summer, and that's all it is. 
I'm going to keep it while it lasts. 
But read this—as a little bit of my summer. I've been acting in and reading Shakespeare's plays for over six years, and only this year, performing As You Like It, did I learn that Shakespeare wrote to the heart. I mean, I must have known it somehow, but to really hear that Shakespeare's words were composed to the rhythm of the human heart sort of changed my life as a poet and a writer. It's so incredibly...incredible. Then, seeing Romeo and Juliet—I'm going to say here that it was the best production of that show I've ever seen—at my local Shakespeare playhouse, I realized that it's true. Shakespeare wrote to the human heart, and to our hearts, to every single one.

And read this, as some more of my little summer. 


Skyway
It's the little things in life 


that make me happy.

Not the obvious ones—

I mean, of course those

make me happy too—

but not as much.

Nowhere near as much.

Each little thing,
to me,
is like a tap on the shoulder,

the flutter of little butterfly wings,

like the gentlest of kisses across your eyelids,

and the sun shining down 

on an open heart.

It's the little things that make me happy,

things like wishful smiles

and lying down with kittens beside you

and a good book,

just ready to dream.

It's the little things that I hold onto,

the setting of the sun

over you

and the way it reflects

to me.

Little things

like the opening of a book,

the perfect tinkling of laughter,

four little words 

that tell me exactly what I need to hear.

It's the little things 

that fill me up

like a helium balloon

and let me go 

let me fly in the open skyway.

Full of the stars 

that we never see

or the things

we've never dreamed of

that materialize out of the darkness

and take form

to give little truths to our world.

It's the laughter that makes me happy,

the times that I will never forget

as we swayed back and forth 

and you told me

words I can't remember anymore—

or, at least, can't say

out loud.

It's the dreaming that makes me happy,

combined with the moments

when you look at the sky,

and even though all hope is lost

and you know you will never be the same again

in any way,

you are happy

anyway. 

It's the little things like that,

the little laughs,

the little dreams,

the little hopes
and fears

and turns

of the fate

that I don't believe in. 

It's the little things like that

that fill me up
and let me go

let me fly

into the open skyway

to you

and your coming embrace.

At least, that’s how it goes

in my dreams.

But truly, 

that's what happiness is,

no matter what they say,

that's what happiness is.

The little moments

and gestures

that we can't see

anywhere

but the open skyway.
And listen to this. This—and poetry, and Shakespeare, and friends, and laughter, and sunshine, and family, and cats, and rivers, and warmth, and books, and photos, and music—this is my summer.
I know I promised a story soon, and I will post one. 
Soon. Seriously. Just wait a little longer. Wait, and write a song, and listen to music, and breathe, and dream, and read, and watch a play, and do whatever else you want. But wait. And enjoy this summer while you have it.
Then comment. ;)