super

Excuse me, sir? Do you ever get tired of this? Do you ever become weary of being the good guy? I saw the montage. I know how you became this way. I know why you fight.

Doesn’t it become exhausting? How do you get up every morning, knowing that again you’ll sacrifice your body and possibly even your life to save the people?        

Because someone has to fight the villains we aren’t strong enough to battle.

Because someone has to take the punches that would kill us.

Because someone has to rise above.

I’m just glad it’s you, not me.

crest

It pulses like the ocean. Beat upon throbbing beat. Wave upon crashing wave.  Feel it wash over you. Pounding and repeating and starting all over again.

The crescendo begins. Slowly, slowly, it builds.

The wave grows. Slowly, slowly, it rises.

The sounds transcend your ears, go straight into your soul. Here comes the tide. It’s getting louder, bigger, stronger.

The moment of mystery arrives. You know the moment when you see it, hear it, feel it.

The crest of the wave.

The climax of the music.

Hold your arms out.

Close your eyes.

Soar.

For this moment, we are free. 

downpour

The rain came with driving force. It pummeled me as I lifted my face to the sky. I felt the water like bullets pelt my skin.

No one could see my tears streaming down as they mixed with the rain on my cheeks. It was probably better that way. Besides, I was the only crazy person out in the downpour.

The grey sky mirrored my heart’s mood. I felt as though nature was explaining me better than I could explain myself.

That’s when a ray of light pierced through the gloom. And I saw the rainbow, bright against the darkness.

I have swallowed too much sorrow

I had hope.

It wisped around the periphery, gossamer, fleeting. But it was there. I reached out to grasp it, felt it slip between my fingers, watched it dissipate in the sunlight, sensed it change to grief in my throat, asphyxiating me.

I have swallowed too much sorrow. It sits heavy in my belly, poisoning my mind, my thoughts, my dreams. My hope deferred sickens my heart. But it beats on, sluggish against the tide, near to breaking.

What strength is there to keep my heart thumping against the onslaught of pain?

I lift up my eyes to the hills. 

soar

It courses through my veins like so much caffeine. But not like that at all. Caffeine is a legal drug buzz. Artificial. External forces exerting power over an object.

This is different. This is internal. This comes from just being around the people that I love. It is a river of power that creates happiness and paints it across my face. It’s a buzz that bubbles. A joy that catches my all-inside-of-me so it soars upward until I can’t even see the earth anymore because the clouds obscure my view.

But maybe that’s just me.

Wait. You feel it too?

An Oftentimes Fool

As I placed my foot on this road again, there was that momentary hesitation, that fleeting moment of questioning. Then I looked up, looked at you, and ran ahead.

My heart, oh simple foolish heart, don’t you know what road this is? Don’t you know that at the end of the tunnel is not light but hurt? Not joy but that throbbing ache at the bottom of your belly that threatens to break open your chest. Not smiles but tears at night on a lonely pillow.

Maybe this one is different. Maybe this time the answer will be yes.

Please?

worried about the music

Do you ever wonder if the world will run out of melodies? That someday we’ll reach the end of the notes and what will happen then? What will we do when the music is all written?

I used to be afraid of that. The end of music.

But then I thought about all the notes on a piano and how many different ways they can be arranged and how many instruments we can use to play them and the differing speeds and rhythms.

And I realized we won’t run out of music. The song only ends when our imagination fails.