End of color

And then it is over
The gaudy display
The song and dance
The brilliant appealing attractive spectacle

After weeks of the gradual climb to climax
Suddenly it comes to an end
Blown away
Stripped in one windy afternoon
The gradual crescendo
Followed by the Grande Finale
Now the audience claps and clears the theatre

Her inner core is left exposed
And therein lies her greatest beauty
Raw and unrefined
Real and without fanfare and comforts and attractions ready made
And for the first time in ten years I won’t remain
At the one time I belong

I long for wild
My wild winters
What has allowed me through the rest
Will I find this calling somewhere else
Or will I lose that part of me
Silenced in the din
Of traffic, talk and schedules
Based not on the rise and fall of sunlight
But on the numeric display on your modern phones

It won’t be long
It’s who I am
How I define myself
My wild side is dominant
Now dormant
Unable to awaken
But I do not let tears flow unless they may nourish and join the river and rain
Perhaps another river
And a rain storm building above another range

The wind is silent now
I do not hear the mountain
I do not hear myself
Instead I hear the wild call somewhere farther
Somewhere else
And I shiver to think of joining her there soon

Thank you for your interest in Gin's writing.

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