Jo March

Doors and Windows

They say that even walls have ears… 

I don’t know perhaps they do… perhaps they don’t…

If they do, then you can hear me when I whisper

You can understand what I am thinking about and why

You can hear me breathe and talk to you in lonely 

And quiet signals… 

But there is something you still don’t know 

I simply don’t mind not seeing 

I actually prefer to look through windows blinded by rain… 

I want to hear hailstones dropping like deafening drum roll

In fact, I prefer to hear you even if you don’t want me to see you…

 

They also say that there is no use crying over spilt milk 

And yet, how many times have I cried over it?

Just to see it… covering the now milky white wooden floor

Doesn’t matter, you know…

It’s impossible to collect it back into the cup drop by drop… 

Yes, it’s quite all right… I think I will just let it go… 

You shouldn’t worry about it… how many times have I 

Spilled my milky sorrows and pushed them headlong into the wall?

No need to worry…

Walls are quite strong and hailstones can’t 

…Break windows…

 

Yesterday, for the first time, I had flown a paper plane…

It flew up into the air, rapidly gaining momentum… 

But, as elegantly as my glittering dreams, 

It sank into last night’s puddle

That someone left after watering the garden… 

Perhaps I should just try to fly another one…

And maybe, in the breath you take 

Between nothing and something

You will… catch it… yes, catch it from the other side… 

After all, winged beings don’t need strings to fly

 

When I was a child, I liked running after butterflies

I would sit among the flowers and wait until a butterfly 

Landed on one… 

Now, I realize that perhaps in that short span of time

My soul alighted softly on a flower and sparkled 

In the sunrise and sunset 

Perhaps… perhaps… there are no walls 

Between the present and the future

Except self-constructed ones…

You build yours and I build mine…

What for? You ask me…

Because I absolutely need to have a wall 

So I can spill my milky dreams… 

 

I want to hear either your or somebody else’s laughter… 

Isn’t it just comical that I would need a wall to spill my milky dreams

From my cup? But I need it precisely because… 

I guess simply because my wall makes me feel safe and secure…  

You know what I have discovered just today?

I think for you this wall simply doesn’t exist…

All I need to do is call you and you will come…

But I need my wall… 

Four even… four walls to secure my restless spirit…

 

Yes, I do feel comfortable in between these walls 

But I also know that if I don’t try to fly my paper plane 

With a message that will tell you at least one of my milky dreams

I might lose my chance…

Who knows… maybe I will never get another chance 

To talk to you about my dreams…

 

So, for the first time in years, I have decided to take a risk…

I will put my heart between the folds of my new paper plane

And send it off… 

Then I will wait until you send me a signal…

When I hear the flutter of a butterfly’s wings

I will know… Yes, I will know that you have received 

My beating heart in those magical moments between 

Dreams and reality… 

 

Then, I will understand that the future is not frightening

I will not need to collect my tears in a cup 

I have already spilled the milk… 

There is nothing more to fear, because the worst is…

Now over… for you and me 

But please take care of the heart that I sent 

In between the paper wings of the little plane

It is just learning to be fearless and (please don’t laugh)

But I will promise to do everything I possibly can

To stop building walls and to open… the lonely 

Door to the future…