essays of longing

Varúð (Caution, 2015)
Varúð (Caution, 2015)

I imagine that I’m typing these words on an old and rusted typewriter. My fingers hit each letter; the keys creak and bend; they give way against my will. My will is on paper; each word is a representation; each word, the bubbling of a storm kept shut for years. What happens next?

Caution, time tried to teach me; caution. But there is no faltering in this flight. Freedom is too powerful a spell. Craving, I’m craving for one more flight, one more step, higher and higher; faster and faster, like a shooting star- unraveling, burning and blinded.

There is only one way to go now, there is only one goal. No disappointment, no sorrow, no golden gates that bar the way shut. I can’t stop, I won’t stop and nothing will stand in my way. I won’t cry, I won’t tremble; a kiss will not break me, your words will not hurt me. There is no power here but sadness; there is no fear here but loneliness. There is not a day it doesn’t rain; not a single day the white marks are washed away. Behind this unbreakable wall of greedy clouds, there is a sun, there is a light, there is a start, there is a way, a path, unlit today and dark at night, but there is a path I struggle to find.

Take me in your arms. Don’t break my wings. Don’t stop my flight. Take me in your arms. Don’t let me go, don’t drown my dreams. Take me in your arms, don’t turn away, don’t let me fall. Take me in your arms and we’ll fly together; I’m not afraid and I’d share your fears. Take me in your arms, don’t walk too far, I will follow.

I swear I will follow.

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