In the Middle of These Moments

Like soft fingers grazing my skin, the sunlight through the window warmed my cheeks; the light filtered in through the foggy kitchen window and spread a soft evening glow upon the room. I love the feel of that light upon my skin, when the light doesn't burn, but warms even though this February breeze cools my face and makes goose bumps rise on my arms. Eyes closed, I hear, for the first time, the beginning of this spring blooming in the voice of the robin echoing through that light I love so much. No matter where I am, when I hear that song suddenly I feel like I'm at home. Maybe it's ingrained into my memory like a chisel makes a crack in stone. The planes flying close spin me back to hot summer days and warm autumn nights when the crickets chirp and sing along with the robins. I see my deep eyes reflecting; they shine a laughing green into the mirror of this glass back at me; through the glass I watch the birds play in the streets and swoop between the trees, dancing in the fading sunlight of those little hours when romance seems to fill the air and fill my lungs with songs I've never sung. I know that no matter where I am and wherever this body will carry my soul, I will still be moved by those moments. Some days I'll forget the memories, those days when the only thing pervading my soul is an overwhelming darkness. I long for those summer days to come around again--when quiet walks through empty woods will calm my heart, and empty meadows become amphitheaters for me to watch the stars. I wonder if I'll ever forget the way we looked at the stars together, or if I'll ever forget the way your arm nonchalantly slipped around my shoulders. Maybe I shouldn't cherish those memories anymore, now that you're not a part of my life. Maybe I should just remember all the times I've sought the pattern of the constellations alone, only remember the quiet moments when my heart was engulfed in peace that comes from God alone. Maybe I'll just wander through these woods that my mind has memorized in my dreams, sometimes haunted, sometimes bright--maybe I'll just close my eyes and once again listen to the songs that ring through my head; revel in the good memories, and try to forget the bad.