a daylight dream

It is a time of rebirth, the heart in us humans returning, balance emerging, curly endings of fates straightening, hope earthing doubt and uncertainty, leaving dark poetry behind. The grace in our days is the complexity of frustrations grounded into wisdom, a fight to let go, a rage to free delicately, through tired eyes and midnight conversations with trustful irises, a morning once to be afraid of, turning into a peachy inside of the sun, embodying fiery yet mindful passion, directed towards a faithful cause. The grace in our days is the life we entitle to all growing things, even if they our merely ourselves. Every spring we age, yet this kind of growth is something that leaves us young with fertile grounds of newness and change. This sparkle in your eyes speaks of peaceful commitments and held back action, and soon potential will sprout from inside of you, and a transformation shall await. The grace of our days is failing to succeed, just to be taught a lesson of t...

Sometimes, deep into the night, I hear the door opening. I hear muffled footsteps and keychains placed on the table and I know it’s you. I know because I can sense tiredness and questions contained in your chest, waiting to be gracefully said, instead of being twisted and turned over and over again in deafening silence. I hear your rough breaths coming nearer and my eyes slowly open. The bed is cold and you’re needing warmth, perhaps not the kind I could ever give to you, because dearest, you’re tired. We’re both tired. We didn’t know that making a living would be this hard, bringing us down with constant challenges and sacrifices to be made. We still have a home to build and a family to cater for and some nights, like today, the weight of it all falls heavily on our shoulders and we want to give it a rest. We know that what we’re working hard for is valuable and beautiful but, we just cannot think that way today. If it were that beautiful, then why do we seem to be fighti...