Green Seekers
Happy August!
Things with no name make the loudest noise. Oceans without a moon to guide it unleash their rage through uncontrollably waves. Planets without a sun to orbit drift listless and fade without a dream to break away towards. Shadows without light can never discover what they're hiding from can make them grow and transform. The lake dreams to be as free as rainfall in the sky. The rain thirsts to be as whole as lake water stagnating in a hole. Winter wants the warmth of Summer that makes it a desirable enough season to be mentioned in more positive connotations than negative. Summer ponders if becoming as cold and empty as Winter will give it enough space from us to replenish the wonder we've squandered. Every answered prayer to prevent a tragedy is a knocked over glass of milk with some drops clinging to the sides we just don't think about getting to that much. That one unanswered prayer is a mushroom cloud in stasis, buried at the back of our minds. The greener grass is an eight-wheeler and its flooring the gas in the opposite direction of us the moment we lay our eyes on it. The greenest grass have wings that allow it to live within the shadows of angels. Always light years out of our periphery.