Change that forges its way through and around obstacles towards its destination. Carves, reacts, erodes, and deflects. Creates art, sustains life. Resourceful and noble, an immeasurable and fleeting force.
It can adapt. We are only asked to respect it. It is infinitely wiser than we ever dare think it to be. It knows where it’s going and that’s where it will ultimately end up regardless of what it may encounter. You can try to control it, manipulate it, destroy it. In the end, you’ll realise that you may never lord over it at all.
An open note to you, kind sir:
Like air frozen in place, you captured my heart and it lingers. Voice and vocabulary lost, I settle for crumbs and scraps. With only the deep timbre of your laugh and a shadow of your silhouette, my memory fails save for a moment filled with magic and that sweet aroma of possibilities. Succumbing to the fear, which I now regret. Seemingly fated to stay strangers for the rest of our days. Not that you’re the one. Not that to you I’m right. It was a moment special enough that made me write.
History is such a romantic place. Skirted around the fleeting force. As daylight approached, we left things unsaid. Up in the air, with the universe as jury.
If it does happen and when, it’ll be because it was where we’re both headed in the end.
Always with hope,
Sasha
Trivia: Photo taken on my way up to the ridge of the Mt Pinatubo Crater, Zambales, Philippines, July 2010.
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