Friday, March 22, 2013
The heaviness of a tired body plopping down on the one chair left. The exposed skin slapping on the wood.
Tired, old wrinkled hands gripping a mug. Steam, hot snakes up her nostrils, leaving wet warmth on her face.
She remains oblivious to the sounds, the smells, focusing mainly on the stream of sunlight peeking through the eyelet curtain.
Shadows of a world, unknown and outside.
A sigh of knowing that one must venture out and on.
Thoughts tangled in the wisps of dust glittering in the filtered reality.
Lost on one, as it falls from its abyss. Gliding effortlessly to the tile.
Visions of a child standing in a pond. Water, cold.
A rumble beneath her feet, as a wall emerges from the depths. There is no fear. For it is her own creation.
This wall of years, highlighted by glittered life. Built upon a foundation of dreams, crushing the breath, exasperating the toiled wealth. Grow and grow as high as the eye could gander. A relief by the concreteness of it. A relief by the reality, that there was no illusion or metaphor. It held strong. Held true.
A sense of security within these walls. Rooted here for all time. Until the dying day of all known to one. She says in her mantra, justification within provocation.
Like the child silhouette against this formidable wall, she stood in the awe of her own misdeeds. Yet there are breaks in this wall. Little tiny specks. The waters trickle, leaving a glistening trail, surrounding her deeper and deeper.
Trickles, become streams. Streams become rushes, gushes until the wall bursts.She stands with arms wide open, welcoming the deluge. Drowning her. Drowning it all, away.No desperation to halt the rush. Let it flow.
In the abyss.
The particle of dust lands. With a THUD. In her mind. Awakening her back to the present. The now. Of who.
Eyes drift to a trickle of a sound. Pausing at the faucet.
A smile pushes her cheeks. A thought, a moment, a now.