Saturday, April 14, 2012

Conversation With A Squirrel

Hello there, little squirrel, fancy meeting you here. It's okay, you can come closer. It's safe, as safe as it will ever be. I won't hurt you, I promise. You look so familiar. Have we met before? No, no we didn't. I'd remember if we did. But it doesn't matter, we can still sit here and chat for a while. I'll do most of the talking, don't worry.

I wonder, little squirrel, do you find life confusing just as much as I do? You probably don't. I bet it's so easy for you, with nothing hindering your mind except maybe silly thoughts of your free existence. And not even that. Nature is your oyster. You can do whatever you want and no one will judge you for it, except maybe the other squirrels. But they probably won't recognise you anyway. You look so familiar.

I wonder, little squirrel, do you ever feel like running away just for the sake of doing it? Oh hey, did you see those two love birds flying over us? You're so small, squirrel. Why are you so small? I wish you were bigger. Or maybe I'll be as small as you are. But then we wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place. You look so familiar.

I wonder, little squirrel, how are you feeling today? You don't have to tell me. I can see it in your eyes. You miss it, don't you? I know you do. But it's for your own good, I promise. I know it hurts like hell (is there a hell for squirrels too?), but it only means you have something to live for. Your heart is in the right place though, little squirrel. Don't let the other squirrels tell you any different. Are you sure we never met before? You look so familiar.

It's getting cold now, little squirrel. I have to go. I apologise for not giving you much time to talk. But we can continue this some other day. Still, thank you for listening.

Goodbye, little squirrel. Goodbye.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Sundrenched Heart

hello again, warmth penetrating my skin,
my toes, my fingers, my now awakened chin,
the gentle breeze caressing my inner ear,
under this blue blue sky, drinking beer.

hello again, rays of happiness diffusing through,
on this little island where we once grew,
adorned by the strange familiarity of coming back,
with nothing but a luggage and a backpack.

hello again, birds singing on a sunlit tree,
staying close to home yet longing to be free,
a freedom that challenges what you once thought you knew,
could be nothing, or maybe this is just your cue.

hello again, life in a different form,
the smooth silvery sea after the moderate storm,
inspiring mixed feelings of staying or going,
mocked by the well known sensation of the not knowing.

hello again, sundrenched heart on a sailing ship.
remember, the iceberg is only broken at the tip.