I’ve come to appreciate when the need to reflect comes to me. Sometimes it drops in like an unexpected guest. I try to ignore it but it still finds me.

Today I was called to remember things that I have left behind.  I went thru my drawer of memories and found a gem and have  decided to share. dark hallway

Hallway 7/8/2004

The places that I lie are not the same I used to abide.

You can find me hiding in a darkened hallway filled with scents of youth; light of adolescence. The taste of bittersweet chocolate in my mouth, making me thirst and parched.

There is a heated drum echoing from the walls ending within the walls; beckoning to break down the shelter that holds back the sunlight. Too bright to enter.

The light of years ever changing.

Flickering to near darkness than blazing to giant flames; much like my mood.

Tides of light flooding long corridors; revealing doors with unbreakable locks and unchangeable handles until a cascade of embers unleashes it’s magic. Unpredictable.

Abruptly the doors swing open to realize a song, a memory….a hint of something in the air. It’s green and bright and makes me smile.

A thought of unique inspiration. Perhaps a glimpse into another dimension where other feelings waft in the atmosphere like giant bubbles bursting into blades of grass. Accidentally finding an open window where a light breeze slowly takes the sphere into the unknown. I can’t catch it before it disappears.

Suddenly everything stops.

The heated music, the tempestuous blaze. The scent in the air.

Total silence engulfs me. Darkness overwhelms my spirit and no windows can be seen to escape from. No light to find my way.  No wisdom floating to capture. The doors evaporated. Trapt.

I’m left running down an endless hallway yelling and only hearing my thoughts ringing through my being; growing stronger with each second.  There is no sound.

I remember their faces and I  look into eyes of those I know for help, for affection.

I find I hurt more when I turn away and The memory of when they cared does not stay.



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