Sunday, March 2, 2014

namesake weather

I alighted from the bus--
stepped off into a snowbank. 
The snow came up to my knees-
making me feel like a child,
lost in the world so much larger than I.

I walked under the stars.
They were shrouded by a warm insulation of snow-cloud.
Soft, quiet lumps of snow fell on my eyelashes.
And clung to my eyebrows
and coated the curl dancing down from under my headband.

I sat in the chair
it was a large chair--
too large. Too lumpy. Too official.
It felt like it belonged to an older generation, a more leather-y generation.
I looked out into the warm sunlight of the Friday afternoon.
I kept looking at the sunlight,
thinking the sunlight might dry up the tears that were welling up in my eyes.

I gingerly tread down the stairs,
taking in the landscape of the living room
and there, in the corner, by the mantel was that one little piece
that one little cranny of my heart that was ajar.
I tiptoed back up the stairs,
and fell into bed, with all around me, warmth--
warmth like a willow tree embracing you.
To wake up under the canopy of a weeping willow is enchanting.

Lost in the enchantment, I wandered down into the cellar.
There, I found two sapphires, and held them in my hand.
I could not bear to part with them, and so I took them with me,
although their brilliance lessened when brought into the light of day.

Mesmerized, I watched the little dancing bear dance on the dashboard.
The scenery passed in a blur all around him,
but he stoically and solemnly danced on,
his face frozen into a cheerful smile.
His effortless dance of joy was a rebuke to the sour thoughts of my heart.
He danced because he was designed to dance.
And it seemed that the more he danced, the more he delighted in doing so.



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