When snowflakes melt
They melt from the outside, in
When people dissolve
They dissolve from the inside, out
You may not even know
That person standing next to you on the bus
Has nothing inside but icing
We are, after all, consummate sleepwalkers
And act, as if we wrap up everything, it will thaw
Even as the emptying of layers reveals it was
Only shadow muffled
Something we used to be
Before it became too hard
And the deception
Feels like a fickle lover, you can’t quit
A lung full of poisoning
A bed without dreamers
Only then the clock reveals
All its missing time
You spent putting bows on hollow boxes, with empty routines and unpolished shoes
When you could have been
Watching snow fall
Like a blanketed mirror of another world
Where you didn’t cut your finger on fears edge
And slip unconscious into hedging your bets
Where you found your long lost mittens and hat
Red against virgin snow, sledding almost vertical
We choose our closed doors with care
Would that we gave such attention to those standing slightly open
Offering a way to cut through resisting ice
Restoring wonderment
Exquisite, this.
I spend most mass transit rides wondering about the lives behind the masks that surround me.
Happiness? Pain? Sadness?
Who are they?
These masks that surround me.
You are unique in your abilities to pull these thoughts from me.
Love this! Have been missing reading your beautiful work – not internet for a week !
Your words are truly touching. Smiles and hugs candy girl
I yearn for the wonderment. Maybe it’s just a matter of remembering how to see.
Lovely, with touches of both sadness and wonder.
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
The Feathered Sleep offers up a poem, thoughtful and feelingful.
“melt from the outside, in
When people dissolve
They dissolve from the inside, out”
YES!!!
The best poetry I’ve read in a while!
To awaken from sleepwalking – that squelching of our spirit that begins in childhood – is our one quest. Thankfully we have the arts, poetry, good literature, to help us wake up just a little. Poetry like yours, Candice. ❤️💕
You have retained the capacity to wonder. An excellent contrast between snowpeople and humanity
Such a beautiful sadness.
Candice, this took my breath away…
I love this. How many times you realize the outside of a person is just a facade to hide the reality within. And written with such beauty!
I’m so tired of the sleepwalkers. They make it so difficult for those of us that choose to be awake
Such dilemmas we face, or rather create in our lives, our experience, when it could just as easily have been laughter …
Let’s pray for spring
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
Love this!!… Also, I came across this blog that I like, and thought you might like it too. xo
https://lifewithanillness.com/2017/12/10/an-open-letter-to-the-doctor-who-gave-up-on-me/#like-988 , ps- I sent you an email early this morning & have another to follow.
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Sometimes create, sometimes tangible but yes, more and more I see that our part can shift.
Well said sister 💓
You’re so right my lovely Thea 💓💓
Thanks so very much 💓💓💓
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Love you B 💓
Dear Lee, you honor me friend 💓
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Thanks so very much 💓
I think you are right
💓
Got your Xmas card! Kanga was over the moon- Vegemite!!! Thanks so much!
You are for me too my friend I’m glad for people like you 💓 the world sorely needs them
Thanks so very much 💓💓💓
Love back to you, C 💕
My pleasure! 🌟💖
My pleasure 🙂
I enjoyed many of the images present in this piece, especially “consummate sleepwalkers”. Wintry imagery is never out of season! On a side note, that’s the cover of a book I’m currently reading, ‘The Snow Child’. Very fitting for this poem and the season 🙂
beautiful Candice, I’m very happy to meet you.
Thanks so much!