by Rochelle Del Borrello
Do you remember the night of summer lightning?
when the seasons changed
thundering humidity clashing upon itself
to create thick droplets of rain
we sat under the umbrella stars
under the talking sky
we spoke of faith and faithlessness
as the world shifted around us
we dreamed of what could be
and took a moment with us
the restless nature of the storm
we did not worry about the future
we were happy to have our passion
the rain is cleansing the moment before winter.
Sometimes I get tangled up with everyday life.
One fine, straight cotton thread becomes entwined
around my family, work, children and economic situation.
Once it was easy to thread a needle and get to work as I please
now the loop is twisted and turned upon itself around others
and then back to me.
The more I try to pull away from it the tighter it becomes.
Like those poor sea lions and marine animals caught up in plastic
fishing lines cutting into their own skin
around mouths, restricting movement until they starve to death
Could I cut myself out?
What would be left of me?
The thread is cutting off chunks of flesh
surely there won't be much of myself left
the tangle is too tight to be unthread.
Vagrant dressed in dark rags
he walks with his dead limbs against his side,
his face shrouded by unexpressed suffering.
What woes has he seen?
To make him become this sketch of a man.
He takes off his crown and kisses the ground
no one sees him but me
no one to call him mad,
his boots heavy, shuffle upon his holy land
he walks towards the infinite sea his dark face glaring blankly
acting out a pagan salute to the gods of the earth
his rite of passage before departure.
I confess I am lost
without hope
free falling through life
doing enough to barely
keep breathing
is that enough?
To live with each breathe
holding onto this existence
through inhaling and exhaling
in the most basic of actions,
hoping death doesn’t come
filling the lungs with air and
expelling carbon dioxide.
It seems so little a thing to do
when a new plague
robs people of this
simple action
taking their lives
by taking away
the abililty to breathe.
I want to be like a child
in awe of the world around me
generous with love and affection
accepting of change, always
growing and learning.
I want to always expect the best
and even if it doesn't happen
simply continue to hope
get back up and move through
life with a naive energy
which keeps you moving
in a mixture of creativity,
curiosity and determination.
Children are so flexible
they are like a cup filling
and overflowing with water
A piece of magic
when the world seems dark
be like a child
live with hope
and endless faith.
There have been better days than now,
felt less lost and confused
not so sad or deflated
I wish for one of those
better days
instead of smack
bang in one of the worst ones.
Nothing going right
love went to waste
efforts all worthless
and so, so far away
from everyone I love.
The hurt comes in tears
that bastard blows up in
your face,
whether you like it or not
that emotion's going to come
knock you over and make you
wish for better days
they will come, just be patient.
