Ballads of Two Seasons
A Precious Bond that Nobody Else Can See
Hearing your voice, listening to the memories
No one will ever walk the earth as close to you
A precious bond that nobody else can see
Blessed are the eyes that behold around you
In the silent love and hidden beauty
Between the night light and the searching sun
Among the shadows above the lake and reality
The boat has written a thousand waves without sound
We share the rain without fear of getting wet
We share a cold night without fear of freezing
We share black without fear of losing white
We share one history without fear of forgetting
The boat continues to sail, staring at the speed of time
Following the direction of the voice of life
They keep smiling along the changing seasons
And the shadows begin to disappear without leaving a reason
There is nothing left to see between you
Although the best season I know is you
About the Creator
E. NATASHA
I'm writer/author/ghost writer based in Bali, Indonesia. I love traveling, diving, mountains & photography. My principle,"Life is not just for breathing!" My email : [email protected] , happy to share :)
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Clinging to Childhood
The playground is empty, as it should be past sundown. There is a warm breeze, and I can see everything despite the late hour. What time is it, anyway? It could very well be past midnight. I can never keep track of time, especially in the summer. A prickly piece of popcorn hides like a stowaway in the left cup of my padded training bra. I stuffed the tissue in last minute— a decision I’m beginning to regret, based on the events that are unfolding rapidly before me. To my left, laying non-chalantly on his back, is my date for the evening. He is two years older, could probably grow facial hair if he wanted to, and drives a secondhand Honda. He may as well be a Man. I, on the other hand, feel like a fraud with my too-short short-shorts, sparkly lip gloss, and makeshift push-up bra. I keep my arms pinned to my sides as I feel the dreaded circles of sweat beginning to manifest on my brand new Abercrombie top. I cup my elbows with my hands and stare down at my hint of cleavage, praying that the tissue doesn’t pop out like a white flag surrendouring my lack of womanhood.
By Marti Maley6 days ago in Fiction
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