One Day Longer.

I turn his pages, ones that open the portal to humanity and the riches they alone encompass within their own way of living. I see warmth, more than what I have preconceived knowledge of. I read the dialogue stitched into their memories and walk the neighborhoods of their lives. I see innocence and youth, in young and old. The disposition children hold, beams with radiance resembling the sun. The faces of the old and elderly mirror the man in the moon, with his many craters. I hear their songs of sweet melodies, as they confess their love to one another. They give my earth’s decorations to each other, gifting each bud and petal a meaning of its own as to offer nature in the place where words fall short. Where expressions such as, “I miss you” or “I love you” fail, carnations and roses understand. I read of how they embrace one another, as to pass their warmth to the other’s being. He describes the action of a kiss and how it alone can hold more power and meaning than words could ever accomplish. He shows me this, as I flip through the pages of his heart. He teaches me of their affection, in all of its many forms. Through the seeds they embed in my soil, offering an apology for taking without consideration. I learn that they rely on my warmth of the sun for life and dance in my tears of rain. I see myself in their existence, watering their seeds of sorrow with my rains of forgiveness. With an apology of my own, I offer spring and its many forms of life in response to the dead of winter. We are intertwined without being aware. I fight to keep up with them and their many ways of life. I long to be embraced by the universe as they are by their distant lover. I long to sail the depths of their hearts as they do my oceans and to be offered landmarks of spring as a form of affection from one being to another. Aimlessly and incidentally they live, catching a glimpse of happiness and taking off after it. Freely, they do as they wish, living in happiness day by day, yet, ever so often, unaware they are doing so. As I rush through the pages of his soul, through the book of humanity, I sense their struggle and decide to share my light onto them, even my rains, one day longer, so that they may bask in my warmth once more, and so that I may watch them relish in life within my grasp for a little longer.