hope

there are days i wonder how cynical i’ve become.  i find myself thinking something harsh and jaded, and it disturbs me.  so instead of indulging in this cynicism, i’m going to indulge in a journey through things that make me happy.

i like dewy mornings with cirrus clouds and the scent of spring greenery and humid earth.  i like showing  up to see that there are leaves where buds were yesterday.  and i like herbal tea.

i like getting caught in sudden downpours and thunderstorms in the night.  i like waking curled against someone, and knowing his scent when the sun returns.  i like the breeze of a fan as i sleep at night, and sounds of the ocean in my ears.  i like splashing through shallow shores where tiny shells wink through shifting sand like sleep-filled eyes.

i like long kisses and knowing smiles.  i like the quiet of the night and the stillness of seeing morning from the wrong side of the sun.  i like the deep, primal beat of drums and how my heart strives to match their rhythms.  i like to weave the threads of words upon a page, savoring each sound and syllable and meaning.

i like the fathomless hushing roar of the sea and the tremulous almost-fear it inspires.  i like jewel-bright valleys with green turned to gold in the glittering sun.  i like hot cereal on lazy mornings and kissing water droplets from warm skin.  i like the slide of soft sheets and pillow cocoons.

i like naps and drowsing into slumber when eyelids grow heavy and fall.  i like waking to warm hands and soft sighs and even a lover’s morning breath.  i like woolen blankets and smooth fabrics.

i like the first drink of a cold beer and the hazy glow of a pub.  i like the silken peat-flavor of single malt scotch.  i like complex melodies and interwoven harmonies and rhythms that surprise me.  i like minor keys and songs that stay with me.  i like concerts and dancing.  i like losing myself in a song and the sound of voices blending.  i like singing in stairwells.

i like foreign streets and stone walls.  i like ruins of castles and climbing crests of jutting rocks to watch the waves strike and splash.  i like puddles and climbing trees.  i like when cats blink at me, and when dogs wag their tails.  i like kittens ‘paws and happy puppy breath.  i like when birds sing what sounds like catcalls.

i like nuances of languages.  i like pleasant surprises.  i like to run my fingers through someone’s hair and feel its softness.  i like holding hands and laying with someone’s head on my stomach.

i like the smell of mint, vanilla, lemon.  the scent of rising and baking bread.  i like the way the earth smells after it rains, and the rich forest scent of moss and loam.  i like the smell of chamomile tea and summer in the southern states, of plants and dirt and humidity.

i like vampires and cemeteries at night.  scary movies in the flickering dark.  i like superheroes and graphic novels.  waking under warm covers and sleeping curled in a ball.  i like watching the stars and seeing them fall.  i like knowing their names.  i like seeing who lives in the heavens and watching orion move across the sky in vain pursuit of ursa major and pegasus as cassiopeia watches upside down on her throne.

i like the voices of history that come from worn pages and faded inks.  ghosts of people long dead who hover by shattered remnants of their once-bright vitality.

i like bare skin and soft breathing.  warm hugs…and….

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About Emmie Mears

Saving the world from brooding, one self-actualized vampire at a time.

Posted on 14 March, 2009, in meanderings, snapshots life, thoughts and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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