The wind had taken the cold, autumn sky above the dark orange oak trees, and shredded it, white streaks showing like cotton tears in a deep, blue denim blanket. There was light, but coming through that ragged blanket, it was more evening glow than afternoon sun. The glow made the orangey whisky grass look lonely. Though the cow trodden field had mostly short, green stretches from spot to spot, the whisky grass formed groves and circles, straggling from the rusty barbed wire fence to my knees. I felt like I was standing at a poorly advertised concert, rocking side to side, slowly, along with those bearded grass stems. The cold wind sometimes nipped at my wrists where the gloves curled backwards. My cheeks felt hot.
I smelt the sweet, unsmoked tobacco scent of the fallen leaves, and the soft muddy field, perfumed by tiny flowers taking a chance, late in the season, for a final push at reproduction. Up above, the sky continued to be torn by the wind.
I stood, still, low beating heart, almost no breath sounds, wondering if my Native American blood had gifted me with the ability to blend into the scenery and become… still. Almost no thoughts, just standing there, in the world, quiet, smooth, just, being.
And it is at moments like this, that I feel so alive. But, why? Maybe because when I’m around others, I feel a loss of control, a desire to let you feel sorry for me. Because, when I’m around you, that’s what I had wanted, for so long, to be comforted. All the cutting downs, and abuse, and days and days of a heart torn like the sky. I almost do not know what it is like to not be torn.
I tell myself, it’s okay to want pity. But instead, I sit in the living room, with my friends, and quietly grin, soaking up their vibes, their beingness, their smiles, their silly jokes, their game playing, and, again, their just … being.
I want love so bad. Too much.
Up above, there is a heaven. And a God. And when all my enemies are gone, we are going to remake the world, a paradise, where poetry lives, and children are not torn day after day after day.
I took you to the treasures I found, and if I can, I will take you to some more, because I love you. I will take you to the moments of bliss that God has given to me, and share them with you, because in this world and the next there are too many treasures for one person to hold by themselves.