April 19, 2015

After Peter Pan in the Spring

Today was crazy full and eventful, something that doesn't seem to happen very often. I started off going to church where I now have a friend to sit next to every week, a blessing I hadn't realized how much I needed. Then I met a group of friends and we went to a Japanese festival where I got to try on a kimono and watch incredible drummers and try my hand at Japanese archery. It was great.

I then did a little bit more homework, but still need to choose my pieces for the portfolio which is kind of stressing me out... I should just draw titles out of a hat.

Then I went to another friend's dance performance and got to see some super talented dancers show off the work they've been practicing all year. I love watching dance, even if I have zero rhythm and know I could never be a dancer for many, many reasons. Still, it's great to watch others, especially when one of them is my friend. I like dancer friends.

I finished my day watching "Finding Neverland", the story behind the story of Peter Pan, and forgot how sad it was. I usually make it a point not to watch movies that could be even remotely sad here in college. I try stick to brainless chick-flicks that will make me laugh. But tonight I wanted something book related and this one showed up on Netflix so I ended up crying a little over these characters and telling myself that I need to get back to writing and write something as wonderful as Peter Pan.

Instead I just wrote this poem about the movie about the play which is also a book...

Maybe I should add a little disclaimer, I'm also still stuck in this awful seasonal sadness and I need the sun to come back and the wind to go away. It has been a lot warmer, but it's still cold enough that sun is a precious commodity and I'm going crazy. My poor little Oaxaca soul doesn't know what to do with all this cold.

After Peter Pan in the Spring

I fall into Neverland
when the sunbeam warms my dorm-room floor.
Music plays words I don't know
but I hum along as I lay in the yellow square
and my eyes close all on their own.

Everything in this junk drawer head of mine
soaks into the carpet
and I believe for once that I can fly.

The ocean is my sky
and I count jellyfish or stars
and they are all the same,
and my eyes are still closed.

Neverland is a breath of peace
or sometimes just a breath at all
and I forget to think about the things
I need to remember.

Instead Neverland is all
emptiness and childish inklings
and the characters I'll one day share
like spilled marmalade sticking to a wash cloth.

The yellow sun drops through my window
and I forget the dead tree in the yard
and pretend that there is always sun
in my own Neverland. 

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