Memory Serves the Appetizer

And another day passes. The city lights pour out over the night, keeping the thought of fireflies awake in my mind as I miss the rural countryside of my youth. I feel the chill air, but it is not the same. I sense the night's passing, as I sense another day beginning in the morning's early hours, yet it is not the same. The city does not quite sleep, but falls in a drowsy state for a few hours, as there is no clear break from day to day. A dreamless sleep endures as the months blur together, and it is a state of mind, and a state I'm in that is not the state I long to be.

I crave a different place from the place I am in. I crave a separate taste then the one in my mouth, the taste of stale air and stale moments. Where is the new beginning? Where is the clear and crispness of a night to cut clean a prior day's work and toil? Where is a clear break to yesterday's madness, to tomorrow's hope and new awakening to open eyes...ready to begin again, begin again?

Where is there rest to be found? Is there a quiet moment by a pond in a quiet wake of trees? Is there a silent walk with the symphony of evening's animals...quiet chirping and rustling to the dark's song...the prelude, and postlude to the new day beginning and an old day ending?

Come forth to me, a new moment, and a new beginning where I believe in full, and I walk in full. Come forth to me, a new phrase to be uttered in joy at the sun's changing state. Come forth, new heart to embrace a new hour of my life unfolding like the folded napkin of a dinner with family...a new conversation of breath that I have not yet used before...

Will I come back to this moment?

Yes, I will. My memory has served me well so far, and serves me all too well now.

Memories fade. And I will fade, yet...I am determined. I am determined to walk and wake and breathe something new in a way I have not yet breathed and bared.

I will embrace that which I have not embraced before, and I will let my mind wrap around things that fear has crippled me from, prior to these moments in an upper room of the house.

Will I forget?

Will I remember?

Will anything be worth remembering?

I hope. And I hope so.

Hope will not be in vain. This...this is one thing I will be sure of.