I know how
empty your life has felt. You have run away from that emptiness, you have
fought it but it’s like swinging your arms at open air, you only end up
hurting yourself. So you finally come to that place where you just reside in it
and let it take away small pieces of you. The pieces gradually feel bigger,
because there is less left of you. That’s when you start to panic. That’s when
you reach out for something to give you back your life. That’s when you reach
out for me.
I will come, I will answer. I have been here all along, collecting
precious water drops early mornings. I watched dew appear and patiently waited
for it to settle, gather and finally fall. I’ve watched you spread yourself
over a thousand little leafs and petals and tiny strands of grass. I’ve
patiently waited and collected what I could. I wont let you disappear. I wont
let the ground suck you up, bury you. Not yet. Its too soon.
I held the
drops of you so carefully, I moved slowly so as not to spill, not to lose you. My
hands pressed together so tightly. I found an empty well and I let the drops
single down. I felt like I lost you again as the drops fell far away from my sight.
Every night
you become the stars and every morning you were the dew. I collect and let the
drops fall into the well. So patiently.
How quietly the many mornings passed, how it broke my heart to listen to the faint sound of thousands of drops of you fall to the ground.
