04.07.16
Dear July,
Today as I look out my window, I can see patches of brilliant blue sky peeking between the un-white foam. Streaks of gold-pink and watery-blue liken the view to a pale version of Wallace-Crabbe's Sunset Sky.
I am waiting for my bus to come, but I feel as though I am waiting for something else as well, forever on the cusp of finding, yet never quite tipping over this edge in to knowing.
My coffee is hot and my croissant freshly made, distracting my thoughts away to less ambiguous ideas. My mood balances on a fine line, like that infinite second of calm in the midst of a storm; the smallest movement could sway me to the banks of contentment where my friends await me, or send me spiraling downwards for days on end.
Afternoon is indistinguishable from noon, the grey sky rendering time ageless. I am still waiting, and I do not know what for.
July, what do you wait for? Do you hunger after the warmer days of September? Or do you dread the melting of snow? Or are you instead content with your present, disregarding the past and future.
July, can you teach me something of this patience? Can you show me how to accept things for what they are, instead of worrying over what will be based on what has been?
July, I hope I can learn from you how to live wholly and fully with what I have, rather than obsessing over what I do not have.
July, bring a change to my life. Bring new opportunities. Bring hot chocolate with friends, bring special conversations shared over a pot of tea, bring soul-refreshing walks in the wind, bring late nights of studying and sudden epiphanies.
Until Tomorrow,
E xx
YOU ARE READING
Dear July
Non-FictionA poem? A letter? A time capsual? This project is somehwere in between. Inside you'll find the somewhat crytpic but mostly honest musings of a writer, artist and coffee adict. -- These letters are part of a long-term time-capsual project and are u...
