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-{::ephemeral_arcs;:}-
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The period my past -i-s- surrounding the environments i live in. The smell of a cool and then chill and cold spring living through the veins, my eyes. Emotion is the vessel of perception.
And all these emotions predate to my previous manifestation. We'll call him Blue. Because his eyes were a fire of that color.
Outside is the sun. It weaves meaning into the mist of everyday. Complimentrary to this sun is the shadow, where tired eyes feel at rest and those seek shelter from the harshness that hurtles itself 8 light seconds across space to bless the ground in front of you, the objects about you.
and that's when I fell to the palor of my own wan misgivings. I'm trodden and traveled now. Expierance a gift that rides and mounts mountains each ray of the cursed sun.
And now I'm pouring out. "the cup must be empty to be refilled".. with fresh water. But, couldn't you be full all the time if you only served as a pool for a spring? You can always go back to the old ways when the spring runs out, can't you?
This warmth about me is archaic. I can feel its impulses warming the parts of me that are familiar. They react to it and sing of things that can only hope to be. It clouds my perceptions, the emotive vessel is really a bird, and i can fly over the walls that hold others in shame, but the distance never changes. Always another shadow leading to another wall.
The sun always seems so much gentler behind a grey sky. But even i can long to see the blue. and I just want to wrap up in all the seasons of earth and stand there eternal in the cycle.
is that immortality?
someone please answer.
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