Pandemic in Los Angeles: Day 03

The serenity of the birds saluting a new Spring. Fresh solar rays on my skin.

The chimes of the ice cream truck, how like a lullaby it rings.

It could be just any other day in the world, if not for a quarantine.

Still I love to hear it sing,

That song that I commit to.

J.T.

When I Rest My Temple

My body is a mountain, formed by the ages, and my eyes are birds overseeing the mountain, pulling every bit of me through the sky. Together our journey is endless, and there isn’t a single day or night that goes through us, but only days and nights that go with us.

Together we carry the weight of the world with us, soaring through light and darkness the same; no setting is unfamiliar, but even after lifetimes, there’s still an endlessness to explore.

This endlessness leads us back up to the mountain, where the sky is an abyss, and where the birds perch themselves to reflect, and then to rest.

But even when we rest, we’re still soaring; we set the mountain down only to pick it back up again. To meet the abyss as it meets us: from days and nights that are each a world in their own right, and which together rekindle us for the possibilities of infinitely more, together.

J.T.