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Reflections By the Hourglass

(If Only We Could Learn How To...)
...
Another Summer is gone...
We are proud of our "chocolate" tans brought from exotic islands, with bodies exercised to the limit against the playful slapping of the Californian breeze and we live permanently with the illusion of having in our possession The Secret of the Eternal Youth.
The sun is not so hot anymore, less and less people join the harmony of the season.
Late, in the afternoon, the Pacific seems to get ready for Halloween with its Treat-or-Treating of the tides.
Tourists without faces pack their memories of Southern California heading towards birds of steel back to Reality...
If only we could stop and inhale deeply!
Another cycle has ended. Life's hourglass needs another handful of sand ...
I wonder where the seagulls die. I wonder where the Lonely go - kites without a string - with their unnecessary beauty of the Soul...
I go back in time, home, and see a blonde four year old girl stepping on Daddy's feet giggling...
"Let's dance, Anduna!"
...and we swirl in a gracious rhythm of innocence, singing, dancing and we turn around and around, faster and faster, accelerating from the Spring of Childhood to the Summer of Mature Departures to the Autumns with heavy sighs...and I want to stop us from the dizziness and let my Dad know how much I love him and Mom...I try to make him hear me but the music becomes louder and louder, the turning becomes unpleasantly obsessive, and withered leaves are slapping me with hate and I cannot breathe...
ENOUGH!!!
...and I open my eyes...I am no longer four years old, I "step" on feet of sand of California and Dad has hands of Pacific breeze...
If Only we could learn How to value the Moment and leave the doors of our hearts open for yet another freezing season....even if the Autumn eyes shed inconvenient tears on the recently purchased rug.
If only we could understand the heavy Winter and the Northern Winds howling through the empty gutters of the lonely hearts I am convinced we would become better to our parents.
If Only We Could Learn How To...


excerpt from "Lava of My Soul" by iolanda scripca
Iolanda
scripca@aol.com





Iolanda Scripca    9/9/2015


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