carbon

To say that i am grateful not to be spending this particular year decomposing underground is a tremendous understatement. I am elated, because even the worst of days have air and sunlight, in such wasteful abundance that clouds sing and mist abounds. There is snow cover, and seasonality, and the inevitability of spring, and whatever happens, it will not come again. None of it. I wish i could spend a day seeing through your eyes, love, be you four or twenty four or forty four. I would like to experience your joys and feel your frustrations. We are so alone in our minds, each of us, and yet we send out tendrils of experience through stories. If we are lucky, our stories will last a little longer than we do, and fade only after the passing of centuries. The moments fall like leaves, and the stories get more numerous. Lakes melt. Seasons change. Carbon cycles.