Reflections by The Hourglass:
if Only we Could Learn How To...
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 Trick-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 home, in time, and see a blond four year old girl stepping on Daddy's feet giggling...
Let's dance, Anduta!"
and we swirl in a gracious rhythm of innocence, singing, dancing and we turn around and around, faster and faster, accelerating from one season to another, from the Spring of Childhood to the Summer of mature departures to the Autumn heavy with sighs...and I want to stop us from this dizziness and let him know how much I love him and my Mom...I try to make him hear me but the music becomes louder and louder, the turning becomes unpleasantly obsessive, withered leaves are slapping me with hate and cannot breathe...
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 Trick-
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 -
I go back home, in time, and see a blond four year old girl stepping on Daddy's feet giggling...
Let's dance, Anduta!"
and we swirl in a gracious rhythm of innocence, singing, dancing and we turn around and around, faster and faster, accelerating from one season to another, from the Spring of Childhood to the Summer of mature departures to the Autumn heavy with sighs...and I want to stop us from this dizziness and let him know how much I love him and my Mom...I try to make him hear me but the music becomes louder and louder, the turning becomes unpleasantly obsessive, withered leaves are slapping me with hate and 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 breeze of the Pacific...
If only we could learn how to value the MOMENT and leave the doors of our hearts opened for yet another freezing season -
If only we could learn how to !
Iolanda Scripca, San Diego
