Elly Grey

You come full circle. The end becomes the start. What closure there was, is now open. But you're aware this time. Alert. More ready. Not again the fool. But better. Stronger.  Try me now.   

 The tide has come in. It's about high time you came back to me too. 

An invitation. Connected. Caffeinated. Coffee rings. What are you gettng? No, my shout. Carrot cake with that? Okay we can share it. Two forks please! Coffee rings. The coziness. The aroma. Fitted into our  memories. Coffee rings. Never ending. 

  What colour is my soul? My love for you? My thoughts? My breath? My line of sight? How I taste? Hot pink! Nothing ordinary, extraordinary in fact. In all facets. In your face. Enigmatic. Something you can't forget once you've seen it.  Hot pink!  Now, try to get me out of your head! 

I will not believe a word you say. Words are nothing. Empty and hollow. Your actions however, I'll observe. Your words, on my sunny days, will utter to me of how beautifully my hair lights up in the sun and you'll add that my eyes are iridescently bright. That's easy. Words said to me, copied from past poets and romance novels. No effort required. But what about real action when I'm in stormy seas? Will you stand by me? Sunny days are easy. Stormy seas are the challenge. What will you do for me when my sunny day isn't bright? When words fail and I need you with me?

You said "Kal" I thought you meant "Kal" I waited for you. You were already gone.

Your shirt  Upper left On your chest My heart Forgotten Item in your pocket

Out of sync, numb thuds, muted. The silence between heartbeats That once knew one another. 

I stopped for a moment and looked around. Did I hear correctly? What was that sound? It felt like a flutter, something against my ear. I shook my head "This is silly. He's not here". I looked to the night sky and saw the stars. I thought of you, and where you are. The silence took over and patter of soft rain. These subtle signs, when the night whispers your name.

  "Have you seen the moon tonight?" "No! Where?" "There. Look!" "Oh my gosh! Wait! Camera!" She runs back into the house to grab it.  "There! Oh wow, how beautiful it is tonight" He looked at her and smiled. She'd always loved capturing the moon and he loved her child-like excitement.  A beautiful yellow cresent sat in the dark sky.  "Even the moon is smiling at us." "You think?" "Look at that smile, she's watching shadows dance under the moonlight."

  Kindness feels like the colour yellow. It's the smile you give a stranger. It's the "thank you" said. It's the "no please, after you". It's the preparation. It's the adoration. It's the "I thought of you". It's when you stand up to give them your seat. It's the meal you cook so they can eat. It's the flowers ordered just for them. It's paying ahead so they don't miss out. It's what you do for another without thinking twice. It costs you nothing.It's saying, I see you, and your comfort matters as much as mine. 

There is a reason why we fall and rise with the Sun. There is a reason why we sway and breathe like the Ocean.

  The truth is people have become so selfish. They no longer try. They will not put in the effort. They will sit back and think "why should I?".  But they will make you do the work because people love that attention they get. They will make you think you are special to them, but really you are not. They will not tell you what they really think about you. They will just keep you around, for the sake of it.  And you will not know this. No, you will think that this is special. But people are deceptive. They will laugh with you and lie to your face. You never really know a person. What you see is an illusion. Warped perception. And that's the truth. And that's scary. 

I owe her Life. She only knew how to laugh and play. She had no idea what turns her life would take, who she would meet, marry, how many children she would have or how her heart would be filled with love and shattered with disappointment.  I owe her love. I owe her happiness. I owe her peace. Because her years ahead are much less than the years behind her.  And there's not much time.  Too less time to be stagnant or sad.  She'd probably laugh and kick my ass right now.  I owe her Life. 

They tell us fire is hot They say you can't take the heat  From a spark to intensity, to simmering and then smoulder... Twin flames burnt each other out...

What are these words?  A fight within me? My thoughts?  Are my words about you? There's no rhythm or rhyme. There's not much that resonates  with another.  But these words, whoever they are about: you, me ... life... I conconct.  Like magic, we turn into poetry.

I don't go out to seek beauty.  It falls in front of me.  Be it a feather, a butterfly, a bud in bloom, a dragonfly, a heart in the sky, raindrops on a window, trees dancing in the breeze, moonshine on the sea, a beautiful bird perched on a branch, seashells on golden sand. They all appear just like that.  I don't seek it deliberately.  It's nature at play.  It nudges me gently to say,"Hey look! Did you see?" And I humbly submit to beauty finding me. 

When I'm at my best, I'm my father's daughter. He taught me how to measure the world, feel taller than the trees, and swim in waters that were above my shoulders. His grave is silent. There's no gentle voice that I hear from him, and life demands that I keep going. But it's the lessons that he taught me that I carry forward. It is my childish wish to be small and protected again, but that will never happen. I must keep going, carrying him in my heart. Happy Father's Day Daddy. Kookaburras are usually very loud birds with their distinct laugh. But this one was perched in the tree behind me. It didn't startle me with it's laugh. It let out a soft sound that made me turn around. I took a photo and looked up again, and it was gone.  There's always signs, dragonflies, birds, butterflies. Subtle signs. I saw you. I felt you.

I think I made you up in my head. I'm being honest. I'm seriously doubting even the conversations that were had. What was that? Was I talking to myself? I'm sure I saved your photos somewhere. Were you real? I did hear your voice. I'm certain we liked each other. There was laughter sprinkled in on certain days. I'm sure that I saw you. I remember decisions were made. The hardest part is that I'm doubting my reality. My mind is making fun of me. 

Be my background sound. Quiet and soft. Be my brownian noise. Like a low hum.  So I can close my eyes... And sleep. And dream. 

These words that I pen are not about you.

There's no middle ground. It was either this way or that way. I chose this. You chose that. Because when I said "here", you were over there. When I said to remember you said that you did not. And when  I said "now", you thought I meant later. When I made noise, you went silent. When I pointed to my heart, you looked to the sky, and that's where it ended.