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Monday, December 7, 2009

Post # 300 : An Ode to the Past

A post written some time around this time, some time ago... when these fingers flexed to write more than usual!


Early Morn

Melbourne sleeps peacefully...not stirring despite the noisy clicking of my keyboard... it appears to be lulled still by the birds' constant chorus outside.

I opened the windows and let the breeze in, and if i closed my eyes it doesn't take much for the mind to be in the middle of a forest, where there is peace, fresh air, harmony, and a cup of coffee.

It's 4:51am and my notes are still waiting for my eager fingers... but the smell of paper didn't quite appeal as much as the scent of this new beautiful day.

As I enjoy the odd hours of a weekend and the solitude in my living room, an unknown winged one decided to share my space. It stayed in a distance, hovered around and then left me alone again. I liked it.

Traces of brown sugar kept me high still. Flashes of expressive eyes and sunrise somewhere come to a corner of my mind. I let it stay there. Broken fragments of thoughts scattered in my head begin to form another picture. I let it merge unhurried.

A deep inhale. There's always time to pause and breathe in.

Again I hear the birds' song - i think they're rejoicing for my shallow appreciation for life's little moments like this.

Good morning.


And indeed, there's always time to pause and breathe, and be grateful of the wonderful things that life brings. The ingredients vary - some find it easy, some find it hard, some need a little luck, a little nudge, and a lot of sacrifice and hard work.

Happy holidays everyone. :)


Those Who Stopped By

Scribe's Notes

This pitstop is where incoherent ramblings seem to have meaning, where things or events are thought of and assessed, where great things are documented and perhaps any not-so-good happenings are written down in attempt to be forgotten!

So from the diversely abstract to the intensely specific, it's off to making tracks, and it is here where it stops for a thought or two.

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