"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." -Shing Xiong *** "Do not go where the path may lead; instead where there is no path and leave a trail." -Ralph Waldo Emerson *** "Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget." -G. Randolf *** "We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster *** "Imagnination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world." -Albert Einstein *** Defintion of Suburbia: A place where they cut down trees and name streets after them. -(Unknown, found on sticker) :p *** "A lie goes halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on." -Winston Churchill***"Love is the irresistible desire to be desired irresistibly." -Louis Ginsberg ***"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware." -Martin Buber



Tuesday, January 31, 2012

In the Woodwork (a poem)

In the Woodwork
January 30th, 2012
When I go off on my own
And we are separated for a time
As I toss and turn at night, longing for home
I’ll remember the sound of your boots
Thumping on the porch upon your arrival
I’ll remember running to the door on little feet

When I heard your cough at midnight
I knew you still lay awake, restless
But when I heard your snore
From across the house, on a different floor
Rumbling in the woodwork
I knew I could sleep easy;
You never drifted into dreams
Unless all was at peace, all was secure

I’ll remember the smell of oil
Mingled with cut grass, sweat, and dirt
The scent of long hours and toil
It was always ground deep into the rough lines
Of your calloused, sandpaper hands
I know it as the fragrance
Of hard work and unbending will

I’m sure on the lonely, harsh nights
I’ll soon be spending in the world of adults
I will dream of your voice now and then
How I loved just to hear you talk, again and again
I used to place my hands on the furniture
To feel your deep baritone vibrate in my palms
If I put my ear to your chest
I could imagine great pipe organs
Playing inside your lungs

No matter how far away I go
Or how long I’m gone
Your presence will remain a lingering shadow
In the recesses of my memories
You’ll remain as deeply ground into my heart
As the grit and metal dust in your palms

No matter how far away I go
Or how long I’m gone
I could never forget all you’ve done
To help me grow my wings
But most of all,
I could never forget you.