landscapes

there is a beauty in love. at the beginning you hear the sounds of a music box. you walk across town as if on tiptoes, floating throwing smiles. i fell in love like this when i first moved to paris. all the darkness of the last summer had suddenly lifted from me. i couldn't explain it, but when i crossed the border between germany and france my heart rejoiced all the while wondering what a man-made line could do because there is certainly no change in the landscape. but who can or wants to explain love? it just happens, a spark in your heart leaps over from somewhere. is it to fill a need, an empty spot? or just to feel something?

this love affair lasted a while. i could ride the train and see graffiti-ridden walls, high-rises, desolate landscapes void of any beauty and i would see the magic behind. possibly like a heroin addict who does not realize his rotten state because the chemicals in his brain give him a different message. it is natural heroin, this love that is set free inside of you. but what is it you see then? the truth behind the veil or the veil hiding the truth? i want to believe it is the former, but i have to say there is no difference between the two. illusion and reality are but inventions of our minds needing duality to experience one or the other.

i once lived happily in pan's garden, though i knew it not. a restless heart, a disbelieving heart needed to roam, wanted to experience and learn more about itself. it wanted happiness but also sadness, because inside this guise we must experience all in its duality. though it is all one. like when you hold your hand under hot water. for a moment you don't know whether it is hot or cold, until the pain reaches your brain. we interpret these flashes as either happiness or sadness, though they are but neurons sparking. to the soul it is but experience and it is merciless to the small human heart that must analyze and feel and bleed.

the last time i fell in love i danced again across the pavement and my smiles were even bigger when i rode that train. i didn't read his credentials, i was not careful. it was a spark making its giant leap across some virtual plane. i remember so well the first time i heard his voice it was laughing and i laughed too. and i never saw the line i had crossed cause the landscapes all still looked the same. and i had been in this land before, i gazed across its infinite fields and hills of green. welcome back the bees hummed. and when the landscape became more barren i still did not see it, because the butterflies had become more tragically colorful, glazed over by the occasional tear.

i am walking still this which has now become a desert. my grandfather had the ability to find water so i am counting on my inheritance.