Arts, BnV, BooknVolume, creative writing, Dreams, Faith, future, Harmony, Hope, life, Love, Love Blossoms, Memories, Poem, poetry, relationships, Romance, Senior Year, spirituality, time, Time capsule, Transformation, Youth, ~Morgan~
And Transforms Forever
The Heart that Opens To Its Tenderness.
I wrote those words when I was a senior in high school, filled with hope, expectancy, and the clairvoyance of youth.
Back then, I used to carry a tablet around with me from class to class in which I would jot down snippets of songs, (duran duran and dépêche mode, mostly, with some Sammy Harris thrown in for good measure) scribble fragments of poems, or draw elaborate patterns out of the initials of some fleeting fancy. When one tablet filled up, I would start another, filling it to bursting with the musings and, often, the ‘confusings’ of my mind….and thus my blogging career began, long before I knew the word, long before there was such a word.
By the time I graduated I had filled four tablets, each containing 120 pages of memories, hopes, dreams, rhymes, reasons, treasons, and insignificant “doodles”. I saved them for a while where I could pull them out from time to time and reminisce, but after a year or so they ended up in a box in the cellar, locked away, secret, a time capsule treasure trove awaiting rediscovery.
Warp ahead several years (never mind how many!). As time and light bend around us, pulsing in the intergalactic void of the wormhole, we hear sounds from other times in my life, which we are passing along the way. Laughter, Crying, Shouting, Singing, Slurring (just occasionally!), Whispering; vestiges of the passage of time and the journey into knowledge and awareness that have ultimately brought me (and us) to this day.
When the spinning stops (no, I swear we didn’t have any vodka along the way…) you will find me in a small room filled with boxes, where I am overturning years upon years in search of words. (Un-poetically phrased, I am looking through a box of memorabilia and memoirs for a few things I’ve written that I want to share, but the latter sounds so much more enticing, doesn’t it?) Suddenly I stop and a broad smile curves my lips. I laugh, although no one is there except me (well, and you of course) and nothing funny has been said. I had forgotten, but here they are, all four tablets, still intact: 480 pages (give or take a few that the dog, cat or ferret may have eaten!) of a bygone moment in time.
Most of the next hour is spent turning pages, remembering, (or not) hearing old songs, smiling about lost loves, and raising a skeptical (or shocked) brow now and again. Ah the brashness and rashness of Youth! All the things I wanted to do, hoped I’d have, places I dreamed I would go, people I longed to meet; locked away in a prison of pages and ruled lines, trapped and disregarded. Then I stumble upon the poem (above) and I stop, amazed. NICE! I think to myself, I DON’T REMEMBER WRITING THAT. But OH how true it is.
Love Blossoms In the Heart, Mind, Body, Soul.
Love Reaches into you, finding that place you’ve forgotten or ignored for far too long.
Love Touches the place that is lonely, hurting, lost, sorry, sad, angry, guilty, fearful.
Love Transforms Forever in a gentle, unforced, patient manner; only when you are ready for it and only when the time is perfect for it to happen.
The Heart that Opens to Its Tenderness; opening like a time capsule filled with memories just waiting to be rediscovered.
Lovely image by : http://www.erasofelegance.com