Almost Twice Upon a Time

Almost twice upon a time. The collision of the sameness. And separation in the sense of the real. And yesterday, long ago, the simple love and the simple sorrow of the young, and later on, a smile of kind understanding. The same things arise. They feel the same embrace, they have the same need, but development has made things richer and greater. And there can be no condescending to youth and its age, and its mind. And December just before Christmas has a sense of time about it. It seems to stand still and wonder. The chill and the people in haste, the traffic in the city, the fired eyes, the expectation, the dream, the imagining, the anticipation, There was strength in the feeling within me today, I turned away from her, and I turned to truth. Somewhere inside of this wilderness, there is warmth, and it speaks from the heart, and it loves. And nighttime darkness, is shy on cheer. It asks to be considered for the way that it obviously, apparently is and no more. But within the darkness, stars shine in optimism, seeking not to be ignored. It may be winter in the seasons of the year, but blinding to the dark, the sun shines within, smiles, and provokes. And the cold, can only still one into warming. And the warming air envelopes, and challenges one to prosper. There is something in the air this evening, and it cares, and it desires. It refuses to stand still, and it prompts, and it teases, and it looks for answers.