Something happened

I was a dusty, weary wayfarer

bruised and limping on bare feet

The night had been far too long

my heart, stone-heavy and dark

But something happened

The first rays of the sun sneaked in

carefully bathing my sullied skin

Fresh winds untangled my hair

and I found you sitting right there

Yes, something happened

Though strangers, we were kindred spirits

perhaps I was taller, but only in height

On this new day, we both had a chance

to brush the soot off our chimney-souls

I know that something happened

It always does when a new sun rises

filling us with unexpected surprises

No matter our distinction and persuasion

the new day levels for us a new haven

Something happened to us today

Another chance to stand, start afresh

another moment to fall back in love

with life itself and our own raison d’être

It’s ours now, let’s absolve their blame.

Something is happening to all of us today.

Sole journey

I love words,

their satin texture,

their rich timbre–

tasty morsels–

carefully arranged

on a platter,

wetting my appetite.

Yet I understood,

how those words

failed you,

when you went,

to that place–

beyond euphoria

or magic’s magnificence.

I moved with you,

in your solitary dance–

a spectator

to illusive images,

inconclusive insights,

evocative emotions

which you tried to convey.

In the end, I knew.

Words were wasted,

lost in translation

in a language that

you solely understood,

not spoken or heard.

On that journey…

we each must travel, alone.

Day 19-Poet’s Billow Challenge: My Treasure box speaks

For today’s poem, write a dramatic monologue in the persona of an inanimate object. To stay true to the theme, give voice to one of your old stuffed animals, dolls, trucks–any toy that meant something to you when you were a child, or at some other point in your life. Perhaps the voice will speak about something it has witnessed. Perhaps, like the horse, it will share its wisdom or philosophy of life. I have chosen one of my most meaningful possessions – my Treasure Box to speak:

This is excellent! – the chance to get out of the dark and stand up and speak. Of late, you’ve neglected me. Perhaps it’s because you’ve stored me in a place that you seldom reach. It’s dark up here and life get’s a bit lonely  sometimes. There was a time when you tended me so lovingly, always feeding me with food from your soul.

Did something change that caused you to neglect me?

You do recall, that I’m the keeper of so many of your secrets. I’ve looked into your journals and through them, I’ve heard your unencumbered laughter, felt the deep ache in your heart that you never thought would go away. Some of my contents are still dried with your downpour of tears.

You haven’t forgotten have you? Remember that little poetry book that your dear friend gave you when she self published. Do you remember her words in the autograph she wrote for you. I recall how surprised you were to find that poem she wrote for you where her words illustrated how much she  looked up to you, the irony being  that you always wanted to be like her. You also kept the eulogy that you read at her funeral – Another special person gone too soon. She knew didn’t she, that she was leaving for a better place when she threw that outrageous party on her 39th birthday?

Then, the hymn sheet for your dear mother when she passed on . That hymn sheet is symbolic of so many regrets and sadness for the life she had.

And the bookmark from another close friend whose life was claimed just before she turned 41. She was so beautiful!

Do you still regret moving on with your life when the two of you had been so so close? But beyond the sadness of it all, I know that you kept that bookmark as a reminder of the great times you had together. Remember those Friday evening pub drinks where everyone looked at you because you were the only person of color and she didn’t care. Wasn’t it exactly that rebellious nature that attracted you to her from the start?

She spoke of you fondly to someone  just before she went off on holiday – not knowing that that she was leaving never to return after a car accident. Do you still have regrets or have you let it go now?

By the way, I still smell of sage which you spilt  on me one day. But perhaps that’s a message for you. After all, I am your Sage am I not?

I am the keeper of your achievements – like that French badge of honor for the work you did, the photograph of your team when you won that special award and some of your favorite birthday and anniversary cards.

Remember how your eldest daughter always drew pictures of mountains and the sun rising behind. That was how she saw the world as a little child. Then your baby girl – you kept her handmade birthday card – the black one with red tinselled hearts. She has always been so creative and now she  is wise beyond her years and tries to play the voice of reason for you. Listen to her! She longs for more of your attention and love.

And of course there is that photograph which took on a life of its own everytime you looked at it, a reminder of the best of times and the worst of times, the joy and pain of a great love.

Ah my dear, I’m so grateful that you’ve given me this chance to remind you that I hold your life story, your deepest emotions, your smiles and your tears, your anger and remorse, your unravelling and your healing, your darkest and loneliest nights. But I also hold your happiest delights.

Perhaps it is time for you to take me out of my dark hiding place for a while and decide what you still want to hold on to and what you’d like to let go.

But before I go, I just want to say how proud and honored I am to be the keeper of your treasures, to know you so well and to have been trusted with both your light and your darkness.

I think it’s time for you to decide on adding some new treasures and while you are at it, perhaps you’d like to remove my old sage fragrance. How about a few drops of  Frankincense and Myrrh instead ?– in fact, I wouldn’t mind being kitted out with new  clothes.


Treasure box