I fret back and forth,
Bite my fingers for a moment
Hide it by tilting my face away
Look, look away
Tilt my head this way and that
Frame my face with worried fingers
Supporting my chin on my hand
Purse my lips, bite my lip
Look back again
—Mom!
Like a thunder clap
It brings me back again
The clouds over my face part
I smile half-heartedly
I have to go
She looks up at me with an odd look
Lurking in her stormy grey eyes
They are her father’s
So much like her father
I begin to bite my nails again
Flick my eyes off towards the window
Throwing my attention across the room
So I don’t have to look at her
Question looming in those haunting eyes
A light but insistent tug on my dress
Brings me back
I look down and smile
Half heartedly
You are going to have so much fun
I place my shaking hand on the top of her head
Feeling her feathery hair
Trace my finger along the red ribbon twisted
Among the feathers of her hair
So soft and smooth
So much fun
I mutter to myself as my attention drifts away again
–the bus
the honk hits me like a slap to the face
I wince slightly
Clawing to bring me back to her to here
I really have to go now
She reaches up with her little hands and turns
The door knob slowly and with effort
I place my hand over hers
Helping her open the door that is too big for her
I feel the softness of her unmarred hands
I wonder if she feels the bones of my fingers
The sadness etched lines of my hands
It swings open
She runs out the door
Like a clumsy fawn
Her back pack shifting back and forth
The monster in front of the house waits
Taking her away from me
I hover at the doorway
Unwilling to leave the threshold
But unwilling to let her go
–Wait!
A desperate yell
Bursts from my breaking heart
She stops and looks back at me
That question still hiding in her eyes
I hesitate for only a moment
And depart from the sanctuary
Running down the little walkway
On legs atrophied with sorrow
I stop before her
She says nothing
Just looks up at me with stormy eyes
Innocent and curious
I grab the end of the red ribbon
Which had come undone on her escape from the house
I kneel in front of her
And tie the ribbon with foolish hands
That shake even as I smile
Half-heartedly
And look into her eyes
I smooth her hair when I am finished
Put my hands whittled away with grief
On her small shoulders
Let out a sigh
That wanted to be a scream
And watch
As she faintly smiles and turns away
The monster honks again
Taking her away from me
I slowly stand as the bus drives away
Leaving me on the shores of my sorrow
Alone
With half a heart.
My family has departed on a biking road trip adventure where my mother and I explore and hike while my brother and father ride their bikes. Our first stop is in Solvang, California just an hour past San Luis Obispo.
This quaint little danish town is full of a tourist’s delights with adorable shops, beautiful architecture, and amusing things all over town. We began with a short stop at an OStrich and Emu farm which sadly was closed. We were able to sneak a couple of shots from the highway.
After our brief moment at the ostrich farm we headed to the mission outside of Solvang called, Old Mission Santa Ines. The view over the valley was very nice and we had a lot of fun exploring the interior and exterior gardens surrounding the Mission.
Solvang itself is really cute with criss crossing streets covered in adorable stores built with Danish architecture.
Next stop was a short hike to Nojoqui Falls. We drove down a really enchanting road with giant trees dripping with spanish moss.
The wind gently rolls through the trees
Like a mothers soft whisper in her infants ear
Telling her of things not yet unfurled
But waiting on the distant horizon
Like a run away balloon
Swept into the abyss
that is not cold, dark or lonely
but quiet and filled with the warmth
of a contented heart that beats
not because it has to but because it wants to
Dancing in pirouettes on the shoulders of the leaves
Rattling the bones the edifice of this green breeze
Until just one person stops to watch and listen
To the secrets swept up by this whirlwind
As the bones are rolled to reveal the truth that lies
In the scattered remains, a world foretold
But not yet cemented
The wind is shifting in this dire breath
Switching back from foot to foot
A ballerina bowing and swaying
With the whispering wind
Dancing not because someone is watching
But to release the rhythm bounding in her mind
Clarity is the remnants of the words left behind
As your hair is tussled and your clothing left displaced
A clairvoyance unachieved until this moment
All you needed was the gentle prompting of the wind
Like a mother letting her child go into the dark, cold, lonely world
That isn’t quite so lonely
And isn’t quite so cold
yes there is a darkness
But your child will find the way
Like a blind woman they will be guided
By the caresses of the wind
When all else is darkened
There will be your hand
The soft bare flesh of your palms
Marred along with the bony knees
That refuse to carry you along this path
Dirt and gravel dig into your skin
As you sit facing the Eastern Gate
Prostrate like a child before your relentless master
On hands and knees too weak for strength
But too strong to kneel
Defiance is your name
As you grit your teeth and grip the gravel
Between your blistered fingers
There is no blame just a silent battle
As you crash to ground
Like the rebounded toss
Of the writer’s crumpled paper
As another idea
Dies and dies again
Breathe in the ochre
Of this ground where you find yourself kneeling
Paint your face with the ochre
Of the very ground you were once told to kneel upon
Let it be your armor, your war paint
In the coming battle
Where once you had hesitation
Shaking as straw in the wind
Let this gravel be your battlefield
And your oppression become strength
We are the children of warriors
But we have yet to prove ourselves
Even as you sit with battered pride
And bleeding palms
This is just your beginning
Let this blood be the signature
That is remembered by all
You who wept for what was right
We remember your name
I know it has been disappointing how little I am updating my blog but I just want everyone to know I am still here. I have recently been frustrated with my blog and feeling it has started to go in a direction that I never wanted. Very soon I am planning on starting a new and getting back to the way I wanted this blog to be. I am going to start writing more and publishing everyday as soon as finals is over, think of it as my New Years Resolution. So from New Years on I will start to regularly post again. I am sorry it won’t be sooner because I am heading into my first ever finals week at UC Berkeley but I will try to post when I can.
I am sorry if I have been letting down my readers but I am trying to start fresh very soon. So keep on holding on, the time has almost come.
Walking into Florence is like entering a labyrinthe of colored houses, narrow alley ways, and open market places. There is so much to see here that is just simply astounding.
Everywhere you walk is something new and beautiful to look at; every corner beholds a new and interesting facet to this city.
We visited the Palazzo Pitti and the Boboli gardens which were beautiful.
And took a much needed break from the over bearing sun in the shade of the garden.
Italy is a place of bikes where the alley ways and streets are filled with both bikes well loved and abandoned. Some are tagged with graffiti, while others are dainty and clean. Some are simply left abandoned, down a dark alleyway for someone else to find.
They are so interesting to look at with the a thousand different backdrops from different city walls. The city changes but the bikes stay the same. They are a monument to mobility that mark the streets without mercy.
