Post by Splendi on Aug 30, 2009 23:08:39 GMT -5
There are few things that still never cease to amaze me in this world as I age, and the night sky over a moonlit Malibu is one. The endless, gaping sky, dotted with the luminescent nothings of stars hug my exposed calves. Wind bites at my fingers, and my still soaked hair numbs my sunburned scalp. It sends shivers down my back and too my toes nestled in the flip-flops that create the perfect cradle.
Nothing about this night is the same as the last, but a sense of familiarity hangs in the air. It draws lazily at the senses, intermixing with the unrewarding scents of rotting wood and horse manure. But even those hearty low notes provide a sense of comfort to my lone soul.
Here in this god forsaken place, I lay, sprawled, in the dirt. I am home. These rolling hills, jagged outcrys, every eroding inlit tells a story. Some wrap themselves in my own, calling that moment theirs, and leaving it for history to show.
A horse scrambles, falling in the darkness. He is guided by nothing but the raw knowledge that he's trod this ground before. I scramble, struggling to pull myself upright after a day of labor. I fail masterfully, subcumming to the sharpness of my knee, the ground, the air, the serenity of it all.
Because I can lie here forever. Pry me off this ground- try. My past lies with me, filled with sweet memories, heartwrenching firsts, and the promise of a better person.
Whe you look at the starts, you look into the past. Those explosions in the sky are just the snapshots of yesteryear. Never will I look up and see right now.
So as I enjoy the reruns of stars, flat on my back, away from it all, the wind blows. The canyon stirs. This night rolls in its sleep. And I glance about. Nothings changed. It's still everything I hold it to be. I look back up. Humbled, I find that I am no one, and smile. It's nice to know that even no one can be this happy. That no one can be this content. To know that nothing and no one but the night brought this no one the most pure feeling of absolute peace.
Nothing about this night is the same as the last, but a sense of familiarity hangs in the air. It draws lazily at the senses, intermixing with the unrewarding scents of rotting wood and horse manure. But even those hearty low notes provide a sense of comfort to my lone soul.
Here in this god forsaken place, I lay, sprawled, in the dirt. I am home. These rolling hills, jagged outcrys, every eroding inlit tells a story. Some wrap themselves in my own, calling that moment theirs, and leaving it for history to show.
A horse scrambles, falling in the darkness. He is guided by nothing but the raw knowledge that he's trod this ground before. I scramble, struggling to pull myself upright after a day of labor. I fail masterfully, subcumming to the sharpness of my knee, the ground, the air, the serenity of it all.
Because I can lie here forever. Pry me off this ground- try. My past lies with me, filled with sweet memories, heartwrenching firsts, and the promise of a better person.
Whe you look at the starts, you look into the past. Those explosions in the sky are just the snapshots of yesteryear. Never will I look up and see right now.
So as I enjoy the reruns of stars, flat on my back, away from it all, the wind blows. The canyon stirs. This night rolls in its sleep. And I glance about. Nothings changed. It's still everything I hold it to be. I look back up. Humbled, I find that I am no one, and smile. It's nice to know that even no one can be this happy. That no one can be this content. To know that nothing and no one but the night brought this no one the most pure feeling of absolute peace.
