My world is not your world
But I want you to meet me
In fields where I can breathe
On mountains where I am free
My paths are not your vision
But won’t you walk with me for just one day
Below trees whispering of old dreams
On silent dust, through drumming rain
My feet cross lands you’ll never know
But just once, follow the threads I lay
Across stones marking secret smiles
Back to hazy borderlands
Meet me there, in places you haven’t learned to realize
Two levels down, up the broken stairs, brush off the faded varnish
Unsee the walls, slip through the cracks, meet me some day.
Still the stars are spinning
Meet me below their trails,
find me on the hill
Still our star is burning
Find me in a fire-lit cave,
meet me when the cold has won for the night
Still we are travelling on silent orbit
Keep watch with me when the turnings seems to hasten
Tell the wordless stories, sing familiar songs on repeat
Remind me the sky still is there
When you find me
I just started a small series of story snippets on twitter. Just look for #AlchemistAndAlien if you’re interested to hear about a random encounter between … well, an alchemist and an alien, obviously.
When I started reading chapter 4 (“Aliens”) of “The Demon-Haunted World” by Carl Sagan today, my head decided on randomly combining it with some other project ideas and I thought it might be fun to explore this concept a bit.
It might not be microfiction in the truest sense as I don’t know how long the story will be, but I’ll try to make most snippets work as stand-alones.
Surrender to the universe, Earth is just the start
Fall into the directionless, Earth is just one of many worlds
Touch the veil of tomorrow, Earth is just one dot of the line
Ride on the back of meteors, Earth is just as small as you now feel
Butterfly wings of nebula to straddle void and vertigo, Earth is just your home.
(Trying to continue reading “Earth in Human Hands” while listening to Hans Zimmer soundtracks and failing because my brain got distracted by pretty associations.)
Don’t forget the stars
among the bright neon lights
keep your sense of wonder.
Summer is finally here, the heat, the sweat, the short pants. So your legs aren’t perfect, so what? So you’re covered in bruises from playing sports, from playing it rough, from playing hard the game of life? Wear your bruises with pride, those marks of warrior strength on your still pale legs.
Don’t let them tell you you’re unworthy of the comfort of short clothes on warm days, don’t let them tell you bruises on pale flesh are not what a woman should wear. They are marks of an active life, of enough health to roll and run and climb, and just as well marks of honour for falling down and getting up, for hitting obstacles and still moving on.
Wear your bruises with pride, and flash them all a knowing grin. Make them jealous of daring to be bold and brave and full of life, no matter how often you stumble and hit the ground.
Remember how we
followed the creek below shrubs
the land of black stones