"I walked in the mountains, and it was Autumn, you see. Yes, the mountains that are up north from here." You began as if you were telling a story to a king, instead of just little me. "I love the way the leaves fall in the mountains as if they were snowing. To just sit and watch the snow fall would be enough to content me. Oh, but the way the trees themselves would take your breath away." As you spoke I noticed our own trees towering around us, as i am sure they were listening too. I thought I saw them grow a little taller as you prod them on with your words and staggering compliments.

"I wouldn't trade all the world, little sister, if I could but know how to express the overwhelming sensation that is the wind blowing the scents of fall all around as the sun stares at you through the leaves of gold and crimson. To bring understanding to those who only smell the moth balls rot away in their closets, and the green paper that seems to be out of reach for most who desire it." He had a twinge of frustration in his eyes, but not a hopeless one. It was mostly a frustration that is the kind to press one onward into attempting the goal (no matter just how impossible).

Whenever he speaks I like to repeat in my head his sentences that I admire. At this point I was still repeating "I walked in the mountains, and it was autumn, you see." It seemed that every time he spoke he did so as if the words were his friends, each one carefully examined, and tested perfect for their own use. He never misplaced a word, and rightfully so.

It is by him, my dearest brother, that I have just barely understood the beauty of words. I have only been just acquainted with them, but I feel as if they shall be very faithful and loyal companions to me for the remainder of my life. Each one it's own beauty, and particular meaning. I could fondle their meanings all day long in my head and never grow weary! Mostly I love how sacrificial they are. For hardly any admire the actual words, but what they are intending to communicate. I have come to hold the highest respect for the words (even the ill-used ones) and it has given me the joy of being delighted in their proposals.

It was on this day as my brother spoke of an autumn so indescribable in the mountains of the north, that Words allowed me to relive actual experience. I captured the wind that blew the scent of fall all around, and yes even the sun stared at me through the leaves of gold and crimson. My entire being was caught up in the sweet elation of that perfectly described moment.

As I have told myself I would try, so I have, to convey this moment I experienced in all it's glory. I used to believe words could never be enough, that they would always fall short of true meaning and experience. I stand corrected, and most gladly!! Even though I fall quite short of mastering this technique of placing words in their correct and most rightful of places (yes, I daresay it is a technique) I shan't become discouraged, for I have the rest of my life to become more acquainted as friends.

Awake my soul, and REJOICE!!

I have been sleeping on my knees as of late.
Attention has run off to a place where time isn't old.
In the younger time it moves faster, so fast in fact that your eyes only comprehend a few pictures.
Most in which never actually did happen (something of a dream). Yet, some of course are just a mere reflection of desire. It is when attention runs to a more youthful and irresponsible place that we have given away our very will for ignorance. (oh what "bliss")
This child, Attention, is not easily persuaded, entertained, or even controlled.
It is almost as bi-polar as the menopausal pharmacist behind her raised counter or even the weather.
(Autumn, how I long to feel your brisk wind)
I also have another that accompanies me on occasional outings, Discipline, is his name.
He doesn't come out much, (though I know he's there) because attention constantly harasses him.
I don't blame discipline for his cowardice for it was only his upbringing that was the cause of such an attitude.
The thing I keep pondering is, what if Attention (like all young girls) only puts on this front of dislike towards Discipline and is actually in love with him?
Yes I know hardly even a plausible thought that should even be considered.
Yet, If the arrangement could only be made THEN I should stay awake on my knees as I pursue the one whom I love!
I am dreaming of a romance between two lovers that they might become one.
Then Attention would become mono-polar and discipline would lead the way of my desires, carving a path in this untredged ground under my feet.
Oh if the love would bud and bloom then (and only then) could I meet with my love, and in a time much older then even now.
That I would sit in a room in the heart of the house of my Love.
There would be pictures on the wall and even furniture elegant and quaint.
I would sit in the chair (or kneel at it rather) as He sings in my ear (a song I have never heard).
The melody would be so stunning that my heart would keep it's tempo (almost as if it was created to do so).
I would sit silent, quieted by a love so tangible.
Quieted by truth often misunderstood and misrepresented, as I sit there on my knees.
I would be wholly and irrevocably consumed in a pleasure, as the pictures of my heart (that He painted of course) hang on the wall.
I would not fall asleep. Yes, the time would be ancient, and finally I would not fall asleep.

edgar allan poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me -
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud one night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we -
Of many far wiser than we -
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling -my darling -my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea -

In her tomb by the sounding sea.