Scattered thoughts: Cold

Cold is when the sky is covered in a thick blanket of gray.
Cold is when the air is clear and crisp.
Cold is when you don't dare go out without shoes because your feet will freeze from the wetness and you could probably get hypothermia or something and you stay inside posting about cold instead of actually experiencing it because you'd rather not experience it.
Cold can be fun, like when it snows.
Cold can also be annoying when you want to go out and do something but it's so cold your face gets numb.
Sometimes it feels that the cold is mean when you want to do something and it's suddenly twenty - eight degrees.
Cold is cold.
Some people are used to temperatures around negative something.
I'm not.
I like the cold, but it has its disadvantages.
Maybe inside is better.
Until it turns summer and I'll probably wish it was winter.

Copyright January 2, 2015. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author. (Though I can't imagine why you would try.)

Living Stories

Wispy clouds of mist swimming through my fingers,

Drops of rain hang from branches over my head,

A soft wet field of grass beneath my bare feet,

A sheet of smooth, soft silk for my bed.

In my imagination, my stories come alive.

I fly with dragons and elves through every day.

I laugh and talk with angels and birds of fire,

And while racing giants, reality feels far away.

I listen to all of their stories and tales,

I never forget a feather or scale,

For I gave them their stories, I gave them a life,

And they dance with me joyfully all day and night.

When reality calls me, we cry together,

For here in this world we are sister and brother,

In my world, no one judges you by your size,

What clothes you wear, the color of your eyes,

For giants are large, and fairies are small,

as for dragons-why, they don't need clothes at all!

Who cares if you have one eye or two eyes or four,

You can still see, after all, that's what eyes are for.

In the real world, first they look at your face.

If your hair is a mess, you must be a disgrace.

Then your shirt, shoes, pants, arms and then hands,

And if you're ugly to them, things won't go as you planned.

Then, if you look fine, they check if you're smart.

Almost the last thing they check is what's in your heart.

I've been judged by the way that i think.

To some, I'm a genius, to others, a freak.

I know that I'm different, I know that I'm strange,

But why would I want any of that to change?

I'm beautiful from what I see,

That's confidence, not vanity.

But I don't think of these things on my own,

With my fantasy friends, I'm never alone.

Copyright September 18, 2014 by Christina Gatchel. This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author. (That would be me.)

Scattered thoughts: Skies

Where I live, the sky shines bright and blue all day long.

Where I live, clouds are mere wisps of white that float like feathers, swift and light.

But now winter is coming, and large, billowing capes of clouds spread across the sky,

but I don't mind.

If you look hard enough, you can see the tears in the fabric of floating rain.

If you climb a mountain, you can see the light shining through the gaps,

like God's fingers stretching from heaven.

I remember when the skies were so big and full,

I would lay in the grass and just gaze at the heavens,

and the sky looked like a giant bowl placed over the earth.

Where I live, the sun beats down with nothing to hide the glare from the cracked and dusty ground.

Cars that should have gleamed stand dry and dusty in the parking lots.

That's why I don't mind when the clouds arrive,

and the giant ball of light that floats in the air  is veiled.

That's why when the rain falls in sheets,

and the thunder is roaring,

and bolts of lightning fall to the ground,

I smile.

Copyright September 4, 2014 by Christina Gatchel This post may not be copied or reproduced without express permission from the author.