Faintly

 

Photo by Kin Shing Lai on Unsplash

'I couldn't quite hear it anymore' (from Kevin Hodgson blog)

That line stays with me
It's how I've felt often
In the tumbling weed stack 

Of the past year

Like a tiny flame
Struggling from the candle
Nearly drowned in its own wax bed
That puffs a final acrid gift
Before resting or finished. 

There were days when I struggled
To remember the basic feed
From apples to bread
Even the staples escaped me

It seemed enough to grasp
Bedclothes at night

Prayers encroaching dusk
For a dreamless flight

My finger would scroll over lines
Of my resume
Another futile trip down digital pipes
Was it was someone else
It was talking about?

There was a daily disconnection
With the people I'd meet
Waiting in a     spaced     out     line
On coffee house street

I couldn't quite hear it anymore

Each day after work
I'd spend a moment alone
With the grandfather trees
Lining the dry river bed

I could tell them the days woes
Letting go the fist of angst
Releasing overflow of inbox demands
Robbing my thinking space

Releasing the imprint
(Haunting my inner grace)
Of text and images.
Leaving a weekend space

I couldn't quite hear it anymore.

Until slowly something returned
A small spark in the gap
Between the office table
And mid morning snack

I perused library shelves
Reading Heidegger and more
Connecting and writing with strong friends
That had often inspired before

I found thinking room
Between mundane paid tasks
Listening to new music
Drinking hot green tea flasks.

The trees stood solid
Not giving a hint
Of all that they had witnessed
Or the mysteries of future stint

I caught just a whisper

Like heavy rain clouds
Hovering at the end of the street
Drawing my spirit forward
Lifting eyes upward a beat

Then I was grateful for that lull
As it seemed to be a needed rest
I lean in more
To hear my heart beat best.

I can hear it now. 

Wendy Taleo

CC BY SA 2022