Destiny

Feel free to listen to the song at the end of this post. "A mighty pain to love it is, And 'tis a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain." - Catullus "Days like today bring me down a notch. For the life of me, I can’t understand why the most beautiful days turn me into a stoic. Maybe I feel like I don’t deserve them. An overwhelming sense of melancholy has my stomach turning as I sit in the sand on the edge of Lake Ponchartrain this evening. It feels a little like love and a little like loathing. I remember when her waters were so inviting, you’d go in wearing your clothes. You’d wade out into the sunset to just where your eyes were above the placid surface. That moment, heaven and earth were connected. Fish leaped from her golden surface, and birds plunged into her bosom, trading hobbies on the finest of days. I swam out to meet her once, and cradled her in my arms like a newborn. She was weightless, and for a moment, time stopped. We danced then, slowly twisting with the current. I was never one to dive in head first, until that day. Months later I sit here, staring at a toxic surface of beautiful memories in the cove we shared, and I feel like I’m sitting in a great big lost and found. For one minute, I was found, inspected and returned. I guess I was missing some pieces. My feet are in the sand though. Only my head is in the clouds. Various species of sea birds are flying in for winter. They've taken up perches all around me on remnants of an old pier. An elegant bird stretches his wings to dry in the sun, and I smile. I'll never get back to that sacred moment, but I can take it with me. Lives are meant to cross from time to time in this crazy experiment, and one must always be ready to embrace the diamond, hold it to the light, scream with joy, then throw it back. These moments add up to guide and strengthen our quests. Soon, I'll be ready to dry my wings in the sun on the banks of our Ponchartrain. And I will fly with the best of them." - Dillon Roberts, Monday, 26. December 2005, 17:01:20