Moonlight, Kendo, Coffee spoons, Perfect Cherry Blossoms, and Springsteen

 

Regret, melancholy, walling oneself up alive,
Breaking down the wall,
Blowing that spark into a fire,
Doing kendo in the dark.
 
We make choices
We make sacrifices
We love deeply and intensely
We seek perfection and only at the last moment
Do we realize a thing was perfect all the time.
 
Living life by carefully dipped measures
Afraid to move to take chances to open up again.
But being brave enough to let the wind of change
Turn that last spark in us into a conflagration.
 
Turning up the MP3 full blast
Springsteen in all his rampant pounding wailing.
Dancing in the moonlight,
Doing kendo in the dark.
 
Lifting my shinai to the moon
And laughing aloud.
I remember when I taught my love how to dance
How to rhumba to jive to hustle
How to move his hips and shake his butt
He taught me how to do kendo in the dark.
Now I’m learning again.
 
I’m not bricking up that wall again.
I’m piling up perfect cherry blossoms
In all the cracks of my days.
Decadent display of pink and white.
I’m driving too fast and listening
To Springsteen too loud.
(Oops girl, slow down – that county mountie
Looked too hard at you whizzing past!) <huge grin>
 
I’m not measuring the moonlight
By coffee spoons.
I’m bathing in it and being profligate.
No regrets, no retreat, no surrender.
I’m starting a fire.
I’m relighting passion
I’m thinking of love
And doing kendo in the dark.

You've heard my voice, please let me hear yours. Let the conversation begin!

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