Time

Rabarbra or Wife Engel picking Rhubarb via WikimediaThis place called time

tastes like rhubarb pulled from dark earth

washed too quickly

holds the grit

and fervor

my grandma says

coal and dirt protect the child

from disease and rancor

but will they erase? I ask

the tenor of nightmares brushing

thin window panes at dawn

before first bird call wakes

the timorous

for fear

can come in the unexpected moth

hitting light and dying upside down

bearing fangs

or in an accumulation of loss

seeking refuge in cooling pipes

when the world sleeps

are we lost then?

to the debris of ourselves?

making masks of highs and lows

as mountains would cleave themselves

into castles

I would like I told her

to be a badger or a fox

stealthy and unseen

beneath hedgerow of cast offs

wild and lost in retreat

among spun floss of highlands

where moss turns aubergine and dries

into purple air

once I saw a skull bleached into chalk

more could be said of its expression

than the world of scraped chairs

and reluctant mouths downcast in an effort

not to betray themselves

when they pulled me from the weeds

daubing calamine for poison ivy and

salt on adhering slugs

I asked they leave me

just a moment more

to turn into a hollow

instrument awaiting its pluck

in the warmth of an

empty room

Advertisements

21 thoughts on “Time

  1. I picked Rhubarb today Candice from my garden.. And made a crumble with it 🙂 Your poem both holding beauty and fear.. Deeply engraved.. Bitter and sweet like my crumble.. The world holds both the Moth and the flame.. I hope you look to find more Beauty in your gardens of memory than the poison ivy and the sting it left in your heart dear Candice..
    For you are a beautiful soul worthy of being a rose… and even the most beautiful of roses has her stem of thorns before we get to the heart of her bloom..

    Sending LOVE to your heart dear friend.. I know from what i have read you have had more than your share of thorns..
    I wish only a garden of Peace and Beauty for you to rest in as you find the contentment within

    Love and Blessings Always.. xxx Sue

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I want to come and live in your garden! Here in TX we cannot grow those things I grew up with as a child, and I do miss that! I love rhubarb especially, for its bitterness, and the color. Magnificent. Also so glad you cook because so many do not, most buy their stuff here, and I think there is something very meditative about making from scratch. Gosh if you were my neighbor I would be round in a heartbeat! 😉 Thank you for your lovely words. I do believe the metaphor of a garden is so apropos in so many ways.

      Like

  2. This is so beautiful. My youngest daughter is longing for a place to roam free. She wants to go walking in meadows, forests, anyplace to be free with her imagination. You reminded me of this and so much more. xoxox

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah my friend. I can see why you would not think you had freedom, and maybe there is truth to that, because illness is the worst aspect of feeling trapped, but it’s also something you can grow beyond, I’m not saying it’s easy or even always possible, but freedom is a state of mind more than anything else. You also have your faith. If you have faith you are always free. I know this because I do not!

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s