Time...

The world is not the same.

Time seemed to stand still for a while, a hazy fog that I couldn't escape. 

Days running into each other like bummer cars at a carnival mindlessly moving. 

Now it rushes by with no relent, a snowmelt feed stream in the spring. 

Time is such a relative thing to us living, 

our whole lives are measured by it.

I can't help but count the days since you died. 

I'm in prison marking the walls until my release or your return, 

all the while knowing both are futile. 

I can not help it. 

We rush around, 

trying to make sense of the senseless,

day in and day out,

putting standards and motives on everything.

Time is endless and it passes 

with or without us.

When I stop long enough to stand still, 

I feel you next to me.

I know you are not gone but everywhere now.

You became apart of Time itself. 

I try to be slower, 

mindfully moving through the maze of life. 

Appreciating all the moments that make it up,

being thankful for the short time I got to spend with you. 

The world is not the same
 nor will I
ever be the same.

Gratitude...

An action. 

A constant choice to be reminded

 of what is wonderful around you,

within you.

To see all the good within the bad, 

to listen to your heart through heartache

and see flickers of the light within the darkness. 

It is always better 

to love more than you hate, 

to give more than you take. 

To be a little softer than you were before

and spread it like a wild fire.

I am grateful 

for my breath, that flows through me

bringing life to my senses,

for my body, that reaches for limits

I did not think I could attain,

for my thoughts, that push me ever forward

into the world of not knowing,

for my heart, that holds me up when 

I feel like falling down.