Cool Blue

I find in the quite times of the morning are the very best for writing. It is a time for peace, and solace, when I write. But most of all I find the best words come from the moment I see. The words can never come close to the feeling of that moment. My mind expresses the thought. I find it hard to recapture by the time I am able to place it on paper. I wish I had a recorder in my thoughts. When I see, the dream starts its trail. The words come pouring out as if a spring of water.

How hard it seems to capture, like slipping blades of grass through my fingers. How to stop time? So I may remind the viewer of the beauty of the sight. It’s like trying to describe color to the blind. You just can’t place a word to that. By the time you find the words, it has lost way along the path. So in my time that I chose to write I must place each word carefully. For time is fleeting and in that very moment I write all is but forgotten. Time now to remember and write. Piecing words like a puzzle hoping to find the right fit.

Truth can be the only glue to be used. So this is why I’ve decided to make this journal. So that I could write and remember that by writing and only then can you stay on the path to your story. I’ve had writers block and when you write you must find the reason. Sometimes it is just a word. One word that keeps gnawing at your brain till you can find a sentence. That sentence is the meaning of the truth, the very reason for the moment. The truth comes in the telling of the story. Every page written must have a truth, a reason, a lesson to be learned. When I write I try to tell what I have seen, learned. So that in the quite of the mind between you and your alter self. You find your truth, a light that helps you through the day.

What brought me to this thought was yesterday morning. While I was driving to work I had that feeling again. I was looking into the first light of day. That is usually the best and most pristine time for me. All the time in the world seems to slow and I see moments as if hours. In that brief minute a feeling in my mind of words spring from that day. I felt a perfect thought. Chiles sparkled about me, like nerves trying to awake. I had been there before. And now I still try to reclaim that essence. It was there in the light before dawn. The weather had to be just right, and the sun had to be there at that precise moment in time. I took that snap shot and have it held in my memory.

The cool air, the silent stillness, I take you there. The sky was brighter then dawn should be. More still then a cloud could remain present. Cool I remember, not brisk, but the thought remained. It’s coming! No sunrise of filament rays to behold. Only the stillness of the gray blue sky filling with light. Cool was the word. Bright white, but dawn was far from sight. I remembered back when I was a small child. That cool silent morning.

I was in a car beside the road sleeping. I was the only one sturing with one eye open. That same sky. I remember. It was all mine!
So this is my thought. What light breaks the morning sky? That is mine to behold. It is my peace. It is my hope. That in all the day there is no better sight than that of my bright waking hour. All mine, sacred to my soul. I was the master of my heaven. I knew that I had meaning in life. Though I know the day will be long, hard, and full of hardship. I will always have my soul, and the clear white light. Cool blue to remember that I’m alive in the world. And I have one Cool soul of mind that is mine.