Swinging Around

she swings around
to and fro
and I catch her every breath
with a youthful smile
stuck on my face

An Ode to the Girl Who I Could Never Write

I found the girl swinging around in the thicket of the woods. I looked as she went to and fro with childlike joy. I was an onlooker and her movements painted beautiful artworks in front of my eyes. I became part of the artwork as I walked towards her. With a gentle push, she fell over into another world. I tried to follow her, but the only thing left was the swinging swing, empty, devoid of the girl who I could never write. The solitude felt like death itself for a moment, but soon I heard her childlike joyful laughing again from behind another tree.

In this rendition of the girl who I could never write, I saw her on a swing and I could not but write poetry about it. Please enjoy these photographs and the poems that accompany them.

Swinging Around

the empty seat
the hollow woods
I could not find my love
as she fell through into another world
the empty words
the hollow seat
my life was for a moment
a stagnant pose

then I saw the hand
clutching onto life
the last rope
keeping her from falling deeper
and I reached out to her
but it was as if she did not see me

she kept on swinging to and fro
like nothing in the world
had weight
she flew through the sky
on a swing
to another world that I could not see

I found my love
on a swing in the woods
a moment in time
f
r
o
z
e
n
cold
but I could see the joy in her face
as she smiled again at the swing

her hair fell in waves
drowning my sorrow
with more regret
as I stood behind a tree
and merely observed
the childlike joy on her face
and the voice that sang
my sadness away

and again anew
from the start
the swing croaked an old sigh
but the song of my love
was louder than my regret

and again anew
the swing went away from me
leaving me alone in this world
as she wandered through
a world I could not see

for the last time
she came back
with her hair growing my sorrow
and her laughter soaking my soil

Postscriptum, or a Childlike Joy

We get older by the day, but our spirit can stay young. It is after all a state of mind, I would argue. We played on the swing and we acted like children. It was her turn and then mine. For a moment, nothing really mattered and we were alive. We were alive in a different way, almost as if we climbed through the forbidden window into the other world. We did not stay very long, and we returned to the world of forms and delusions. But this is how we wanted it.

I hope that you enjoyed these photographs and, if you read the poems, I hope you enjoyed them as well.

For now, happy photographing, and stay well.

The musings and poetry are my own, albeit inspired by the random swing we found in the woods. The photographs are also my own, taken with my Nikon D300 and Nikkor 50mm lens.