Lighting a Light on a Bad Day
I light candles because I love the smoothness of flamecontained, scenting and calming, fill ing turmoil with calm.
I walk in an almost mini monsoon of rain and falling blossom,
the cobbles are so hard beneath my feet, the beauty is lit
in pools, swirling colours of pastels and vibrancy,
heat steams in lost vapours creating their own mist
mythical, I smell the early earthiness of day beginning its journey.
Then there is chaos and confusion and tears and disillusion,
I know that I feel things too hard, too deep, I believe in
being honest, in expecting decency and calmness and tranquility,
I find myself in tears, they won't stop, even in embarassment,
So I write this straight to screen, my day, ordinary in its ordinariness,
I walk through cobbles that line a park, I watch trees soaked
shedding their burdens, this is my burden, one I decide to shed
in words, nothing special, nothing unique, if it was paper
you could pick it up, write a shopping list on the reverse,
remember all the things you meant to do and then forgot.
Then the day, it changes, the rain stops as suddenly as it can,
the sun breaks out, at the marina the tide rises and all
those expensive yachts gleam and shimmer and shine,
they are a burning flame on a paradise and people toss away
their burdens and half bent umbrellas, they literally unfurl
They become fluid, their interactions are filled with fertility,
the park gardens gleam with fercundity and splendour.
Policemen put on white uniforms and smile, the surly doorman
welcomes colours within his domain and everyone is smiles.
I smile, as I drive down the road, and see something more
splendid than any of you could imagine, so splendid
as wearily I manoevre my drive and park my car.
Someone has taken the detritus that has so bogged me down
and cleared a path into my garage, a place where the
pipestrels are the only ones who make it their domain.
I can park a car, swing a metaphorical cat ( I never would)
I light a candle, wind the windows that I had tightly battened
and unfurl myself into the wonderment of somehow,
somewhere, maybe never, I have my place and fit right in.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2015-05-14 at 20:31
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