In the silence of intermissions we find the true character of what it means to wait. Patience is a valuable virtue that no one has the time to cultivate. What a paradox I am faced with that I cannot seem to pace myself enough to breathe. They come in jagged edges, stripping my sanity of all its smooth texture. I lose the race to the slow and gentle turtle.
Does it make sense that this love should both hurt and give such fulfillment all at the same time? Should true love bring tears to the eyes? Does it have that right? Is it the only kind that could justify such a reaction? of the brutal stranger, his rape upon my sensibilities is something to be expected but the gentle hand of a lover, this is something completely unexpected. Yet, why? Why do we place his soft whispers in such high regard? It's high regard cushioned with complete trust, leaves the heart vulnerable and bare. Mine encased and warm with life's rhythm is beating faster to the sound of what seems to be impatience and sadness. . . sadness that cannot be explained
Can a mother explain the empty feeling that aches in her arms when her child has left the home? Can a father explain the aching regard he is faced with when he places his daughter's hand in the palm of another man? No this ache is normal because it encourages growth. Life itself demands fluid movement. Our hearts are no different. This fluid pattern that beats with each waking moment is a constant reminder of this. Yet we forget even as we forget the beat we drone out with other sounds that play in life.
There are the sounds of laughter, and tears, the sound of life and innate anxiety and fears, the sounds of car horns and cash registers and the sounds of feet constantly moving on the warm, cold, freezing, and hot pavement.
Life is life, and all its sounds play and repeat in our ears.
Yet in the silence of intermission, we must wait. We have no choice but to wait for the seconds to slowly tick by. the moments drag on and we cannot force it to evolve into something it is not. No, intermissions are purposely meant to break between two events. this life intermission that is strategically placed between these two places causes great moments of immense inner turmoil. I cannot breathe and my mind runs in all directions. Like the rabbit, I run and run and yet I find it all to be in an endless circle. STOP!
I ask myself to sit and wait but my heart aches for something more. the soft pitter patter of feet run through my mind. Laughter, holding hands, a wedding band. . . and yet this intermission still ticks away leaving me feeling frayed. My hair is disheveled and my body exhausted. I curl up within and fall asleep to all the sounds that are playing in my life. All the loud noises that play over the small, quiet and still noises in my heart that say;
slow little darling, take one step at a time. The race is not truly a race if you never make it to the finish line. breathe little darling don't lose faith. The day will come when you will pass the line on by. It is only then you will wish that you had walked down the dusty spring road. You will realize you missed all the beautiful details along the way. Darling don't lose faith, in the sunset of our sorrows we see the most beautiful night sky and in the sleeping of our sorrows we can dream of an even more beautiful sunrise.
Sleep little darling, take rest in this thought, that the turtle may be slow but he was patient enough to see life and also win the fight.
