musings while running

musings while running

i love when everything falls into place
only happens after i've given up the race
well i have eyes to see
i have life that's bursting forth inside of me.
so lets take the long way home
every moment i spend with you
lets make it slow, slow, slow
we'll count the moments as they go
~catherine maclellan

when you hear a song, is the message to you? or from you? is it meant for the moment and should you take heed? or is it just for the singer? or is it just chords?

when is my song no longer mine? i used to think when my songs and my play were performed for a crowd, they were still meant for me alone. but once everything is broken, do they now belong to a girl i've never met?

when the workers have all gone home, and it is just me and a 4 foot bird in fields of deep green coffee bushes, their little white flowers intoxicating, and the clouds clear, and the mountain is crisp and the vista suddenly extends forever and you can hardly breath for the beauty of it, is it for me alone? is it a smile? a blessing? a warning? or nothing at all? if i am not there to see it, if my heart does not skip a beat, is it meaningless?

if i am no longer yours, and your love is no longer mine, did i ever have it at all?

what is really mine? the few dollars-or shilingi- in my bank account? i suppose that belongs to the bank, unless i took them out and stuffed them under my pillow. but the pillow isn't mine either. it is my parents' or my landlord's... i once stole a thimble from a lost boy. that is mine. a faded painting with a faded promise. that is mine too.

my heart has many parts, the walls built thick with age. if i have given you part, when you no longer want it, do i get it back? or is it lost forever? does my heart grow bigger to make up for the partitions? or am i left with a little less for me each time? maybe those pieces still belong to others, not who they are now, but who they were then. the 6 year old, the 16 year old, the 21 year old... and yet just the right dart can somehow pierce the walls even now.

maybe it is better to save yourself for the mountain, the country, the perfect moment. at least they never change and you can always return and visit and even the coldest heart will beat.