The Gale is Stroked

Aged gargoyles, now bluish black, perch unmoved despite the wind.  Stones do not creak.  The mighty bells sway, but the gongs are silent.  

Whisper, whisper once more the last of hell’s gates, the dominion door.

Piercing, the screech ascends as a wight exhumed from death.  Its billow of smoke trailing the eastern end.  The bells are silent.  The door is shut.  But none who walks attends the omen.  As such things are defamed when secrecy is breached.  Fate’s witness peers over the latched smoky window.  What once was and what will be have split.  The horizon bleeds purple.  The door is shut but the latches rattle.  

No longer bound the omen flights pursues to gain the victim.  The gale is stroked.

Last Encounter

I lower my aim.  Target leans forward, elbows propped, legs stretched and crossed at the ankles.  Paper cups are pushed aside.  They are aware only of each other.  Crumbs trail the paper napkin bridging the distance where their fingers almost touch.  I am sure he wears his special cologne, the one that smells of the breeze.  

It is now or never.  Last time and I will walk away forever.  I lift my aim, slow my breath.  He runs a hand over his chin.  A shadow of stubble hides his skin.  He smiles.  I shoot.  He doesn’t know I exist.  The shutter closes and traps him before he reaches for those fingers.

Musings on Happiness

Happiness of our situation should not stem so from persons, things or locale.  Granted, they all have a part to play, sometimes albeit a powerful one.  Our happiness should not be rooted in temporal things (for we know the fate of temporal things).  No, our happiness should come from within.  But I am not saying that we manufacture happiness.  If that was the case we would always be happy, but oftentimes we are not even happy with ourselves.  


No, happiness should be embedded with joy which is tied to contentment.  And joy is a much stronger virtue than happiness, as love is a stronger virtue than like.  One may experience happiness without joy, although it will be fleeting.  And happiness without true contentment is fickle.  Sooner or later such happiness will wane for want of being anchored to an eternal source.  Once a person grasps what it means to be content, regardless of situation and status, and is able to practice it, then is that person truly happy indeed.