There are times
By Emi
Written for Jean
There are times when I would resign myself to sitting by the window, letting the cool breeze from the night flutter past as I gazed up at the moon, and contemplated the purpose of life. Are we here for something profound, or is it just a test run done by those whose powers we cannot understand? Are we an experiment; mice sent out into a maze to try and find that cheese at the end?
There are times when my cynicism takes over, and I wonder what the point is of going on. Why do we continue on, walking through the changing weather of life and letting the shards of ice in the blizzard continue to hit our face? What heart could survive the torment of the heat when it yearns so much for the cooling rain that is just barely out of reach?
There are times when I walk through the hallways of buildings or across the campus and feel so alone despite the hoard of people surrounding me. Their voices are so far away; lost whispers in the wind that are only half heard as they flow through the mind. The echo of emptiness, intense and deafening, hits like a flaming arrow, but no one around me can take notice that I am burning away.
But then there are times when I look at your face and these thoughts, these nightmares, just melt away. I can see the purpose of going on, the purpose of putting up with the pain in order to fall into that Garden of Eden at your feet. Only with the light sound of your voice could the storm begin to disappear, and I can stand back up and brush the snow away as your warmth wraps around me.
You’ve stepped into that garden finally, out of our reach now, as you lay down to rest. Yet I know that at the end of the long cave, after cuts and cries, you’ll be in the garden waiting for us when we are able to come to you. Until then, all we can do is trudge on, hoping that our fragile spirits won’t shatter before we can see that gate, and we think of you to stay strong.
