(no subject)
Old School
Author: Ranier
Series: One Piece
Summary: [Abstract]
* * *
You, of the previous generation, watch in silence as your children move forward into the unknown that once belonged to you. Today the territory doesn't seem so foreign, but the fear persists. Take their hands, a voice urges, rein them in for the white foam and the blue sea will devour all if you blink. Ah, you think. Ah. How you understand the two sides warring inside yourself.
In the days long ago, you were the boy and the girl, whose eyes shone so bright under the sun nothing could shield you from the burn. These days, mist and haze have spread a thin film over the brightness and you know, oh how you know, the sores and the sizzles of youth. There's that itch, that numbness, that phantom feel of a missing half. You remember the pain, the one that made you smile. You also remember the laughter. Wherever you were, there was always laughter before the days became dark and darker still. It aches, you say. Because you lost all of it when the tide of age flowed in and your strength ebbed away. You feel like the beach, forever robbed of the sands of time and all sediment of your memories began to fade.
You have now forgotten many things, and wonder if you are forgotten in return. You think you will always remember the sky and the sea, and how they, husband and wife, join into one flesh that encompasses your entire world, always in one rhythm, in one emotion.
You pause and breathe. The scent is familiar. Sweet, bursting, and alive. It is coming from the place you have spread your roots, planted your seeds. On the soil you have labored so hard, crystals of salt formed and they become precious. When you collect them, you wrapped them in colored papers and put these little stars in a large glass jar as a reminder of your own life. One for every scar you have inked onto your skin. One for every broken nose. One for every lost teeth. One for every trickle of blood. One for tears unbidden. One for every defeat. One for every despair. One for rage that came often. One for love unconditional. One for a healthy fear of dying, and thousands more of tiny salt candies.
Every day there is a harvest on the soil where the salt crystals are born. You are never in fear of running out of them. What keeps you awake at night is the thought of being unable to tell which salt candy is which. And you hate to admit -- it will happen sooner or later. Tomorrow is a frightening word.
And it's always tomorrow when your children break free of your grasp and run ahead, to collect their own crystals.
And it's also tomorrow when you realize, you can't run after them.
No more.
Author: Ranier
Series: One Piece
Summary: [Abstract]
* * *
You, of the previous generation, watch in silence as your children move forward into the unknown that once belonged to you. Today the territory doesn't seem so foreign, but the fear persists. Take their hands, a voice urges, rein them in for the white foam and the blue sea will devour all if you blink. Ah, you think. Ah. How you understand the two sides warring inside yourself.
In the days long ago, you were the boy and the girl, whose eyes shone so bright under the sun nothing could shield you from the burn. These days, mist and haze have spread a thin film over the brightness and you know, oh how you know, the sores and the sizzles of youth. There's that itch, that numbness, that phantom feel of a missing half. You remember the pain, the one that made you smile. You also remember the laughter. Wherever you were, there was always laughter before the days became dark and darker still. It aches, you say. Because you lost all of it when the tide of age flowed in and your strength ebbed away. You feel like the beach, forever robbed of the sands of time and all sediment of your memories began to fade.
You have now forgotten many things, and wonder if you are forgotten in return. You think you will always remember the sky and the sea, and how they, husband and wife, join into one flesh that encompasses your entire world, always in one rhythm, in one emotion.
You pause and breathe. The scent is familiar. Sweet, bursting, and alive. It is coming from the place you have spread your roots, planted your seeds. On the soil you have labored so hard, crystals of salt formed and they become precious. When you collect them, you wrapped them in colored papers and put these little stars in a large glass jar as a reminder of your own life. One for every scar you have inked onto your skin. One for every broken nose. One for every lost teeth. One for every trickle of blood. One for tears unbidden. One for every defeat. One for every despair. One for rage that came often. One for love unconditional. One for a healthy fear of dying, and thousands more of tiny salt candies.
Every day there is a harvest on the soil where the salt crystals are born. You are never in fear of running out of them. What keeps you awake at night is the thought of being unable to tell which salt candy is which. And you hate to admit -- it will happen sooner or later. Tomorrow is a frightening word.
And it's always tomorrow when your children break free of your grasp and run ahead, to collect their own crystals.
And it's also tomorrow when you realize, you can't run after them.
No more.