Unwritten Nostalgia

More about Unwritten Nostalgia

A spark in a touch by the shadowed light. I can't deny the this twist caught me by surprise.
A glimpse, a shared moment. Enchantment laid at our feet. Earth angel found, wings tears of effervescence.

She descended, she passed by. I wished to say hello, or even goodbye. My weary words got the best of me. She steps by me, I saw something I have never seen before. Past memories seeded a future I have yet to know.

All that was left was the glow after the spark. In life, in love, I've been helped. I grown to know something new. A life of exploration. I find my pen in my hand, I write amber hues of daylight. I caught reality, sweet, dark, a version of my reflection that has taken my best parts. They fold into 1.

A weave I know, and like the rose I grow.

Thorns protect, they also remind us of the darkness, powers that be. The equilibrium that allows for the light. The toil of keeping our side of the street clean.

I break with zeal yet it hangs onto me. I turn around it whispers to me. I listen to my detriment. Aggression to excise at what cost? Blinding me to the balance that is being restored. I see it now. Events in motion, momentum that couldn't be stopped.

I know only space between you and I. Yet I feel distance holds less friction, an ocean becomes a lake.

We are all free to choose. My freedom feels greatest when my thoughts turn to future between Daylight, and Midnight's blue. Let them say we're crazy. Let them say he's a wild boy. Let the critics find their meal. They don't even know what they chide, or for that matter what they cheer.

Just know life is full of mess ups. The situation is delicate, no need to place pressure where it doesn't belong. There is nothing to push. I know the light maybe be turned out, so I must move briskly along.

Stakes are high, the burden of blame is mine. I have found myself, know that now it is only a matter of time. Everything in my power I exercise.

Only the preamble ends, let us write the next volume. As we live let's not expect less, unless were talking about that lake. May it become our puddle for us to play.

Forever, Ever, and Evermore,
Aaron Baker

Post Script: Let love be our only treasure.

1 4 Alison
1ov3 David