i’ve been walking roads
in a strange light
they took me where my feet walked
they carried me along the paths
of heartbreak, daydreams
and wonder
the sun was dimmed and i clinged to that book
and to that can of beer (Viking :-))
and the story took
me on a path of self-discovery
by means of words alone
a revealing daft allegory
dystopian tales of a red maid in chains
invisible chains of the mind
a parable of rape and the logic behind
made me look back and forgive
myself for being raped
by someone I trusted
by someone I loved
i discovered an old lover long lost
between pages and wisely crafted words
i found this old pal again:
literature, writing
the art of words
i embraced this long lost love as a lonely traveller
in strange lands
strange lights
solitude
literature, my old love
aimed to provide answers
and raise questions
and while i was standing there in awe of nature
the most powerful force there is
and while i was breathing in ceaseless wind
under a sky lit by that strange yellow gleam
and while i was devouring the stories crafted by Atwood
most inspecting, haunting, yet true
i finally allowed myself to feel, in mere solitude
the ache of letting go
the ache of forgiving myself
for something that wasn’t
and never has been
my fault
in true silence, in the face of a windy beach, a rainy mountain top,
in true silence is, where we can finally hear our hearts mourn
and the process of mourning is what we need
to move on
i survived, that’s it
once more
an artist of survival indeed
and writing – the art of words – the healer
for the pains of loss
loss of time
to overcome heartbreak might take ages
why?
because life without love ain’t life
so be it
love is the only constant in life
FIRE AND ICE
