Remember youth, eating pizza at 3 a.m. and wearing t-shirts that declared anarchy? Remember the blind faith in yourself and the world? Looking back, I want that innocence. I want more of the sun, the garden, the high notes. I want time to stay green. Maybe if I pretend I can’t see it. I’ll be the ship sailing on an ocean of oblivion, not yet knowing I’m at the horizon’s mercy.
Is it really about time, though, or my desire for time? Do I want to spend my life avoiding the clock’s vibrations?
Come rest by me, take my hand and we’ll watch day stumble into evening. As I look into your soulful eyes. I think perhaps, I don’t want to be young again. Maybe it’s better if we invite every tragedy, and wisdom learned to sit here beside us. I want maturity rolling on our tongues when our mouths mate. I want the years naked between us, drinking from our wine.
Maybe, as we rest here in the stillness of twilight, the sky will open for us, showering us with petals and what we don’t want to see will seem softer, tender. And we’ll welcome whatever comes next with our t-shirts of wisdom, knowing there are still horizons yet to unfold.