She needs more zen

Sometimes, 

We think they hide from us.

– those words,

Those thoughts,

the creatures in the shadows.

Sometimes,

We think 

We may know better.

And grasp, and grapple, and think.

Train that pale Demon

that made their home 

under the stairs (to your heart)

But what, if sometimes 

we sat there for a while, 

Our backs resting on the newl.

What if we slowed,

And hummed sweet nothing.

What could distil in the shadows?

What colours could tan that pale skin?

What is enough?

I would like to post this, and leave it to be worked out. But I don’t think it can be. This is one of the poems that flow out and encumbered sometimes, I enjoy the meter and the lack of rhythm. To describe it I’d have to analyse it, I think it’s important to have A mixture of poems – this one holds the space for the bit of us that cares little for hope! However, I hope it isn’t defeatist. 

Sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves, and those around us is find a little solitude, crawl under the duvet with the remote control. We don’t like to talk about the black dog or when things are hard, and sometimes when we do it all gets a bit dramatic and meaningful. I challenge that, sometimes I feel blue! sometimes, the past, casts its long shadow into the present in interesting ways. Sometimes our present does not match the future we think we deserve. Make no mistake. Life is rich and in the words of Terry Pratchett (and probably someone else with a much wiser) ” it is light that makes the shadows”. These moments are signposts to accept how things are, or to empower us to make a shift. this is written with others in mind, as much as it is for myself.

What balance swings

and encompasses all.

When questions sought

fulfill the many.

And hearts new quest

is barren found.

Or fertile seeded

and nurtured not.

And foreshortened life

of this eternal spark.

And all damned thing 

is fine forsaken.

And copes in some

solitude, a little better.