July #12

We


We are going
to have a house,
a nice house,
somewhere
far away from where I am right now,
somewhere that I may have never been.
We are going to have a house.
We are going to have a garden,
with flowers and pumpkins,
because I like pumpkins,
even though
they might not grow well there.
We are going to have our garden and
I am going to have my pumpkins.
We are going to have children,
adorable children,
who take after relatives we don't know.
We may not even know they take after people,
because we'll be far away
from the rest of our families.
But it is a beautiful place, I hear.
We are going to have a yard
with room for a sheep
and two dogs
and a cat, at least one cat.
Perhaps
if the children convince us
we may have a hermit crab as well.
But no bugs, snakes, or slimy things.
We are going to go visit our families for Christmas
and Thanksgiving
and New Year's
and maybe sometimes in the summer
just for fun.
We are going to be happy,
with our house and garden and children and pets,
and high priced airfare.
But we would be happy
in an apartment
with high rent,
no kids,
one flower growing in one pot,
and a goldfish,
if we had to.
Because we know what love is.

April #17

I talk about real life too much sometimes.

What's going to happen - after.

How I can't wait to leave

where I am,

in search for something more real,

more tangible,

more realistic.

I came across a quote today,

trite as it was,

and it sort of, 

well, 

revolutionized my thoughts a little.

Life is now. 

My life is

every moment.

It's not about after college,

or after work,

or when this project is done.

My time will not be saved

for after I finish whatever is ahead of me.

I have to cherish, and live,

and love the now.

So I vow to do it, 

silly and pointless

and sudden and revolutionary

as it may seem.

It's time for now.

It's time for real life.

My worries will waste each day.

Let my loves live them instead.