Wednesday, January 04, 2012

hands that feed

I couldn't sleep so I went out under a dark sky in search of a darker bar. I went in. I ordered two fingers straight up. A poet was on a corner stage, silhouetted through smoky shadows reciting, ranting and shouting in the darkness at the darkness. I had read her before, maybe heard her. She had a way of wrapping my empty feelings with exquisite words. I sat deep and listened deeper. When the glass was done I slipped out and shuffled home, where on the couch I fell into a deep sleep.

I dreamt of tall ships on a black, twisting ocean, untouched shores under a white moon, a small house hidden in fog with golden light in the windows. I was walking towards it. I could hear laughter and music. I could hear songs sung by people whom I once loved and whom once loved me.

I awoke in the morning to radiant light. I gathered my thoughts and prepared myself to confront the setbacks and usual apocalypses of the day.

But in my mind was laughter and music. Songs sung by people I love and that love me still.


Fisheye Lens said...

If only I had the mellifluous soundtrack you eloquently describe in my head most of the time, instead of the usual disquiet of a peripatetic mind. An encouraging reminder to change the dial from time to time, Dox.

Old Ollie said...

that is a very good night...peace Dox

mythopolis said...

Well, it was a very interesting read. So, thanks for that. The phrase that got my attention most was,' a darker bar'. That captured my imagination.

hulia said...

Love it Adam! My new year's challenge: write one a day. (This is selfishly motivated...give me some daily poetry to read on my sick-bed. How's that for guilt motivation?).