“Did you ever wonder what it would be like if you weren’t you anymore? If you were suddenly gone how would your world react? Whatever you imagined was wrong. There’s nothing romantic about death. Grief is like the ocean: it’s deep and dark and bigger than all of us. And pain is like a thief in the night. Quiet. Persistent. Unfair. Diminished by time and faith and love.”- Sam, One Tree Hill (via nataliecastle)
:PORCUPINE by Alison Price
The other day I tried to give myself a phobia. Not a very big one, just a small one, based on something I’m already a bit leery about.
It didn’t work.
Besides being relieved, because who wants to go through life with an extra phobia or two lying around, I wondered.
By Alison Price
Tell me by JACK bARNOSKYjackbarnosky:
You are there, you will be there
When the skies darken, when the lightning strikes the sacred ground around me
When all seems lost to me, tell me
that the things I see are mere shadows
ghosts, of what is real tell me
I am not alone, I see your face,
feel your warmth, across the years,
I can feel your body
against mine, never be lost
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food , water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remembered them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day suddenly comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster, and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
I wrote to you of tomorrows,
but I’m still stuck in yesterdays,
and I wrote to you of permanence,
but nothing in life is destined to stay.
So I wrote to you of myself,
but I don’t know who I can be,
and then I laid down this inky pen
and simply asked for you to forgive me.
You wrote to me of todays,
but you longed for tomorrows,
and you whispered of shortened time,
saying it was only something to borrow.
You wrote to me of your heart,
but you didn’t know of its fragility,
and when I laid down my inky pen,
you answered me with, “I’m sorry”.
Where is it, then, that our story rests,
if not in either of our chests ?
They noticed, you see, that I was a noticing— “After Rain,” Mary Ruefle (
kind of person, and so they left the dictionary
out in the rain and I noticed it,
I noticed it was open to the rain page,
much harm had come to it, it had aged to the age
of ninety-five paper years and I noticed rainbow
follows rain in the book, just as it does on
earth, and I noticed it was silly of me to
notice so much but I noticed there is no stationary
in heaven, I noticed an infant will grip your hand like
there is no tomorrow, while the very aged
will give you a weightless hand for the same reason,
I noticed in a loving frenzy that some are hemlocked
and others are not (believe me yours unspeakably obliged),
I noticed whoever I met in my search for entrance
into this world went too far (but that was their
destination) and I noticed the road followed roughly
the route of a zipper around a closed case,
I noticed the sea was human but no one believed me,
and that some birds have the wingspan of an inch
and some flowers the petal span of a foot yet the two
are very well suited to each other, I noticed that.
There are eight major emotional states but I forget
seven of them, I can hear the ambulance singing
but I don’t think it will stop for me,
because I noticed the space between the waterfall and
the rock and I am safe there, resting in
the cradle of all there is, the way a sea horse
(when it is tired) will tie its tail to a seaweed
and rest, and there has not been, in my opinion,
enough astonishment over this fact, so now I will
withdraw my interest in the whole external world
while I am in the noticing mode, notice how I
talk to you just as if you were sitting on my lap
and not as if it were raining, not as if there were
a sheet of water between us or anything else.