In the Silence
I have finally written a new poem. I have struggled a great deal with doing anything creative for a while now, and am honestly unsure of how good this is as I feel so rusty when it comes to creative writing. But here it is.
In the Silence
She hides from day
And lives the night,
Her paws betray
Her padded steps.
She slinks through gardens,
Alleys, gates.
She hides from streetlight,
Drinks the dark.
Her silent grace
Knows each step
Away from humans,
Buildings, noise.
A shadow; black,
Unseen, unknown.
Her eyes glisten,
Await her moon.
A final crack
In wooded fence,
She crawls, and stretches,
Licks the trees.
Her quiet sea
Of grass, of green,
Caress’ whiskers,
talons, fur.
She rolls and mews
And takes her moon,
And lies in silver
Soft, serene.
The night flows gently
Heart is calm.
She feels the silence,
sky, the stars.
And here she feels
The earth, the air,
Beating in her
Soft and pure.
Til eyes move gently
Remember time,
The coming sunrise
Threatens her eyes.
Back through woodland
Through the fence,
Back through the gardens,
Alleys, gates.
She must return
Before the sun
Burns through her fur,
Her paws, her tail.
She shuffles in
The urban house,
Pads through the cravings,
Hunger, strife.
She climbs the stairs
Into the room,
Heartbeat racing
As the light
Slowly sets
Her fur aflame.
Awakes in hands.
In skin.
In life.
I'm not sure if people prefer poetry to speak for itself, or whether they prefer a little explanation.
For those who belong to the latter, I guess I would say this poem explores how I am currently feeling. How sometimes, I get glimpses of temporary good health, and during these times I often meditate, or sit outside in the garden, or just look out the window, and have this wonderful sense of peace. I explore this feeling here. But then, this peace and well being never lasts. It is not long until my usual life crawls back again, and it's like awaking back into my body, with all of it's suffering and illness.