Tossing pebbles in the ocean when nightfall is but a notion, dream my spirited child as if there is no end.
I pray the whispers of your youth are louder in your heart than the voices of the world that will soon taunt your head.
And I hope, dear child, you toss pebbles for as long as you can.
Mostly misplaced, indifference displaced, the world and its lovers dance without haste.
When you feel like the rules are different for everyone but you, and the world keeps changing except for the view, close your eyes and hear the sounds from that place long ago that spoke to your youth.
When nothing turns out like the dream you chased but never followed through, and it seems your spent hopes and layered dimensions are all but wasted on someone you once knew, close your mind to life’s whimsical wisdom that only altered your youth, to find again the one voice that always spoke the truth.
It’s the silence we feel in the noisiest of towns, the vibrant fragrances we taste in the dullest of mouths. It’s knowing when something is too much or just not enough. It’s beyond our hearts and in our guts. It’s a love we left on some beach for a path we followed but in which we never believed. It’s knowing where you are is a place you don’t belong and where you aren’t is a place you’ll never go.
When you feel as though it’s unfinished and over at the same time and something that took forever is done in the blink of an eye, never forget who you were for awhile before you figured out who others were not.