The word of the day for November 22, 2012: SOON
As I was scanning through entries to feature in this post, my son sent me a text message asking if I could pick him up from school.
“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” I typed.
Before hitting send, I thought about what a wishy-washy, noncommittal word “soon” is; a word that implies that something is just around the corner—often when it’s not. Even when “soon” speaks of hope, it’s largely indicative of some sort of lack. I revised my reply:
“I’ll be there in 14 minutes.”
In the end it took sixteen minutes. So technically I ended up lying, but it felt good to commit. And he didn’t seem to care anyway.
“Soon” is that elusive moment in time where love might live:
I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. That we’d forget one another, that the skies over our heads would grow dimmer and dimmer until we couldn’t tell who was where. But it’s a lot to ask, huh? When you want someone so much that your bones break at the thought of them forgetting you. So I’ll wait for you there. And I’ll see you soon.
soon is not when you’ll be in my arms
soon is not when you’ll look into my eyes
and tell me you love me
soon is when I take the pills
and fall to the floor
even though you can’t hear me
It’s when we grow up:
How soon you will grow up
Not to be my little man…
It’s when we escape:
The boy sat in the room, writing the same illegible curly runes across the floor. He looked up at the walls, covered in the same odd symbols, and smiled. He stood up, still grinning, and walked over to the small, barred window, looking out at the guards. For a high security vault, he thought, the protection was rather minimal. Against magic, that is. Soon, he thought. Very soon.
It’s a destination:
Soon. We’ll get there soon. Over the horizon. You’ll see. When the stars settle. When the wind stops. Soon. Just a feather’s breadth away. An iota ounce. A breath, a bounce, a buoyant turn.
It’s when we blossom:
let your flowers grow ahead
let the sunshine take you home
live this life today and go
learn from us, be like them
soon you’ll find your love
It’s when we escape:
5: 32 PM. Time is a cruel god. I was standing there, staring blankly at the doodled cities on my Chucks, waiting for your sharp footfalls to echo in the halls. Will you come soon? It felt as if eternities have already passed, but I still wasn’t able to glimpse a shadow of your presence. The you-shaped void beside me makes me sore, makes me ache. Will you come soon? It’s been forever since I last saw you.
5: 33 PM
It’s where we stay:
soon is not enough
for we must be now
a circle bound
into the life we have
walk with me
love of a whole
never given too soon
It’s when sequels are made:
It will Soon snow. Soon because it has to. Soon the stars will lasso the moon and re-make it as a sequel: Tic Tac Snow—too fast, too soon.
One of the only things that soon cannot be is now:
Soon seems so long from now sometimes. And sometimes it seems so, well…soon. I find myself talking about the things I’m going to do in a couple minutes as soon. I find myself talking about a few months from now as soon. One thing I can know is that soon is not now.
These are selected excerpts of entries from oneword.com, and are just a few of many great entries—too many to list here.
The quoted writing above remains the property of the original author, reprinted here under oneword™’s terms of service. If you are an author whose work was printed in this piece and would like it removed or for us to link directly to your website or blog, please contact us.