PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The cold creeps in if you don't move. Standing on a corner, it will attempt to balance you with itself--but it will never succeed, as long as you live.

The sunset is in the distance, while the city moves on. Pulsing my muscles in rhythm to a song that isn't playing, I stand, waiting, wondering. Why am I alone here now? I have left behind everything--my life, my friends, my family. I managed to make a self-sufficient business in the online world to keep my account afloat while I take this adventure.

Who am I? I think I have one name, but as this journey continues I begin to uncover a strangeness about my existence--our existence. For now, I suppose, I can be referred to as Darien.

Why am I writing? Well, perhaps I'll find my own story and read it in the future. Hopefully I'll wake up in time and find her, again. I am alone because time drifts on in each life, which means that each life must make its way to its other half. Yes, that sounds cheesy, oh so romantic, and of course completely unbelievable. And maybe it is--maybe it's all just in my head.

I am looking for the sound of life--rather, the sound of our lives. She plays it, and I wrap myself it in, and together we become the purest form. Inside the cafe, a piano begins playing. It's an unfamiliar song, but it matches the rain as it comes down on my head. I listen, watching the rain run into the river. The tides of time go on forever, and I wish this song would as well.

As long as it plays, I'm somewhere else, closer.

Where do I go now? Follow the music.

I go inside, the noise has lowered, as people are in awe of the sound that comes from the piano. It isn't her, but he is part of the living music. The cafe is fitted with the most modern appeal, having attracted young groups and couples. It's a refuge from the reality of the world, where they discuss their thoughts, perceptions, and every point of reality. I exaggerate of course, but it does harbor those who seek better understanding of existence. It is outside of time for many at least.

I wait for his concert to be over for me to approach him,

"Hello, who are you? That's awesome the way you play."

He turned and blinked for a second,

"Oh, I'm Tim. Tim Burr. Thanks, who are you?"

"I'm Darien. Just looking around for new music."

"Oh? Are you a recording producer or something?"

"No-o" I laughed,
"Let's just say it's some sort of spiritual journey."

Tim turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes on mine,
"Ok then. Well, music certainly is spiritual. I don't mix it with anything, so--"

"No-o!" my eyes widened,
"I don't mean drugs or anything!" My neck twitched,
"Uh, I think, it's more toward the idea of me having money, bored, and music is my passion. How's that?"

Tim laughed,
"I was messing with you, you don't seem like the type. If you want, I jam with some others if you want to listen in, maybe give us some feedback. We always have friends come over, and sometimes they bring others. The more the merrier, right? We post everything online, but it's much nicer to have feedback in person--it just sounds better live. Don't you agree?"

I nodded and smiled,
"That'd be amazing. I'm also collecting and writing about the reasons people play, listen, and altogether the experience they have with music. Maybe someone will be interested in it someday."

Tim tilted his head slightly again,
"That's cool", then turned it the other way,
"You seem like you'll be 'going places', as they say. I don't know what it is. Bet you hear that a lot, though, I always did. 'Oh he played Beethoven when he was 3, blah blah blah'--you know how they like to brag."

I smirked,
"Yeah, I'm just sort of all around though, no particular area I excel. I suppose everyone hears it from time to time."

///////////////////////////// Continue