Love, real love, transcends.
It sees past wrinkles and age to see the youthful heart.
It overlooks wrongs and missteps, granting forgiveness.
It overcomes changes in sexuality, seeing the person beneath.
It understands sickness and steps up to care.
It endures hardships to share in the celebrations.
It pushes each other to improve to grow together.
It guides through darkness, and leads to light.
Love survives. Love endures. Love transcends.
The orange hammock strung up between two oaks lured her outdoors. A breeze picked up, cooling in the summer heat. It was a lazy weekend, and she looked forward to this break for 12 days straight.
Her phone on silent, she slipped it into the pocket, then slid into the hammock like it was a swing. She inhaled the fresh air as she slipped off her sandals.
She lowered her sunglasses then lifted her feet. Carefully, she turned and settled in to the cocoon of the hammock. The sunlight pierced through the canopy, but the breeze brought relief.
She hung her feet out of the hammock and let the breeze gently swing her. She watched the birds and the squirrels playing in the branches above her. Slowly, she drifted off to slumber. Peace at last.
Dream your way back to me.
Remember me in my youth,
when all was new and spirited.
Feel the excitement of each first.
Dream your way back to me.
Recall the elation of each first kiss,
The gentle touches we gave the other,
The electricity we felt that first time.
Dream your way back to me.
Morning bled ominous red,
A warning filled with dread.
The lake ignored the warning,
Laying calm in the early morning.
Birds eventually took flight
As the red gave way to the sun’s light.
Only the early birds keenly know
Storm winds soon will surely blow.
The wall held back the water as it was built to do.
Strong and sturdy for years it stood.
The water rose, and the wall began to give to,
but it held for as long as it could.
Slowly drips began to push through,
small leaks streamed tears down.
The aging wall’s greyness changed hue
knowing soon it would drown.
Suddenly, it gave way with a great gush
And the water inundated the land in a final rush.
Cycles are off and the world is spinning,
A never ending journey on an infinite loop.
Over and over, the trials keep replaying
And won’t stop till the lesson is learned.
Swiftly turning, faster and faster,
Each day passes quicker and quicker,
with less time, less opportunities to change.
So we struggle just to keep up
And worry the world will pass us by.
Until one day, there is no more.
A disturbance call brought Alex to the scene in the outskirts of Chicago. It had been raining all day, and typically these calls were rare in this type of weather. She arrived on scene to a deserted road and nothing much else. She looked out of the car and saw something out of place.
A lone scarf fluttered from a tree branch, ensnared as it’s wearer disappeared into the night. The pavement was wet and the lights along the path flickered as the storm raged on.
Alex tightened the belt of her coat and pulled the collar closer as she inspected the fine cashmere cloth. A small label revealed its maker and its origin…Dubai, UAE.
She pulled the scarf away, admiring its beauty. The finely woven pattern in light and royal blue hinted at the owners taste. But, who was she, and why would such a fine piece be left behind? A mystery awaits its unraveling.
The blue and red light flashed behind her, and reflected against the marble wall, lighting up the sidewalk in pulses. Each time the pulse would pass, something in the grass, beside the wall, would catch her eye.
Alex walked over, tracking the source to a small patch by a blooming camellia. She bent down to inspect it further. Among the blades of green, she saw the flash again, and picked up the shining object with her gloved hand.
From it dangled a white gold link bracelet with three opals. The design appeared to be middle eastern. It may be from the same person who lost their scarf.
She looked over the camellia bush and saw flowers littering the grassy area and some broken branches. Something definitely happened here, but what?
She flashed her light through the park, but found no one. Finally, she decided there wasn’t much more to do at the scene. She turned with the item in hand, and proceeded back to her car.
She would need to find out more in the lab.
Can we go, run away, from these expectations?
Maybe just steal a moment in time once more?
Find our way to a grass field among the peaks,
Spread out a blanket, and nestle in close.
Watch the clouds drift in front of the moon,
And seek out constellations in the stars.
Let us lose ourselves, just for one night.
Sleep in each other’s arms, find some peace
Before life has to invade once again.
Thoughts on an unknown diagnosis…
Some relish in not knowing the future, others dread it, while some have perfected living in the now.
Just get out of your own head is easier said than done. Keeping busy, finding distractions, filling up days with things to do and people to see is great.
Test results come back, so onto research. What could it be, so many scary things. What can I change, what can I do? you ask yourself over and over.
Sometimes you just need to know.
But then, night comes. Have you filled your day enough for your head to hit the pillow and fall asleep? Or do you lie there, staring at the ceiling, the wall, your partner, and the window, wishing for the gears to stop turning, the thoughts to stop churning. Fears take over, for the future you may never get to see, or a future filled with dread, and fear that you may never get to sleep.
But finally, sleep does come, albeit from exhaustion. The next day slogs on, achy and tired. The question is, when will it end?
The bottle rolled onto the beach, waves pushing it further ashore. High tide receded as fast as it came, leaving remnants and the bottle behind. Crusted over with barnacles and coquinas, the bottle waited to be found in the powder.
A lone woman strolled along at sunrise enjoying the quiet morning and the birds. The sea left a smattering of treasures for her to comb through as the beach came to life.
She paused as she saw the familiar shape reminiscent of an olden bottle of rum. She scooped up her treasure from the depths, brown glass and aged to a dull patina, and she admired it.
She settled on a nearby fallen palm, and inspected the bottle further. She noticed a cork tightly wedge in its mouth.
Could it be the ubiquitous message in a bottle?
Gently she pried it open and looked inside. A parchment rolled up and a couple coins were stowed inside. She tilted the bottle and pulled out the parchment.
In shaky calligraphy, the note read:
To the sea I cast my wish,
With a letter and two six-pence,
One day my true love, let her find,
And bring my face to her mind,
See me in this life or the next.
And do not let our love be vexed.
Forever more yours,
The last line had blurred, making the name unrecognizable. The woman smiled to herself.
What a find, indeed!
She stood up and gently placed her find in a tote. She looked forward to discovering more from her treasure’s history.
Dawn Renee Writes 