a quiet loneliness
is settling in
once the eye of a storm passes,
and the remainder gushes though
in my experience
with literal storms as well as emotional ones,
those hidden things begin to emerge
as with the silence that precedes a hurricane
when animals and insects alike seek shelter
and remain in the protected places they’ve secured to weather the storm
our emotions, likewise, often scatter to the far off reaches of our minds and bodies
observing from afar as the torrents (of actions) rain down and the painful winds (of words) rip through a once peaceful place
usually, when the wrath has ended its violent sweep
our emotions, like the animals peeking out in the Afterward of Mother Nature’s gale, begin testing the air, assessing destruction, cleaning up remnants, gathering supplies anew
and life reassembles itself
if not in the exact manner it had before the storm,
certainly in a way that is recognizable
downed power lines are repaired or replaced
yards are cleaned up
homes are rebuilt
hearts and psyches are too
and the finishing touches soon follow
assuring that what we do matters
and that picking up the pieces
is the right thing to do
many, many times this has been my experience.
but not now
could it be that my emotions are so far scattered, so deeply buried, that the numbness that contained them through the most heinous parts of the storm, have locked them away beyond recovery?
for where is the commotion of the clean-up?
the tidings of a new and happy day?
the activity that
yes silence comes too, but after the activity, and the silence then is one of contented relaxation
the silence that sits with me now
is not one of peace
is not one of contentment
it is not even a comfortable acceptance of what was,
and what is
it is a deep discomfort
a feeling similar to a bite of food that is lodged in one’s throat
or an ill-at-ease heartburn
or stirring in the belly that follows a too-acidic meal
you know will soon expel itself
through one exit
how long will this last?
how soon can I resume course?
when will I be able to digest the experience
and transmute it into a healing balm?
for that is what I do
that is how I know to cope
that is what allows me to continue to exist
such is the alchemy I’ve perfected
the transmutation of the awful incidents of life
into beautiful lessons learned
once that conversion takes place
I am at peace
I am wiser
I am gentler
I am stronger
I am able to fully access my joy
where is my Joy?
where is my Benevolent Heart?
how is it that both are eluding me?
have they abdicated their posts?
I shall remain incoherent
for they were the pillars in the menagerie of my attributes.
photo credit – dying flower: