There's a Light — but it's not at the end of a tunnel.
VC2
Autumn leaves and winter trees.
Blackened skies and cold nights.
Cinnamon tea or hot chocolate coffee?
Do you hear the wind dance softly?
Everything is calm and the soul is numb.
Forgetting that there once was sun.
Go ahead and cry tonight.
Happiness will come when you find a light.
It’s not at the end of the tunnel, as others have said.
Just light a candle and put it next to your bed.
Kind whispers will spread from the smoke of the flame.
Letting you know that there’s no need for shame.
Many words have damaged your soul.
No-one listens or understands at all.
Opposite views, different beliefs.
People think they know what you need.
Quiet their voices, silence their convictions.
Rest in knowing that it’s okay to be a victim.
Somethings, many things, are not your fault.
To take blame for everything is exhausting and wrong.
Understand that each and every day you fight.
Violently, yet discreetly, being beaten by life.
What would you say if I sat with you tonight?
Xenial will be the theme for the night.
You’ll soon be ready to remember the sun.
Zealously being a light for others as one.
About the Creator
Marysol Ramos
From Soul Soothing to Mysteries and Thrills. Take a few journeys with me through short stories that will either liven your soul or consume it with curiosity. Either way your mind takes a ride and your emotions are brought to life.
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Wind & Soul
Soul Soothing Journey Wind & Soul I sat on a dark wooden rocking chair that was on the porch of a friend’s house. My friend called me over for breakfast after I sent her a message saying I was having trouble holding on. When I arrived, I walked through the front door and she embraced me in her arms. I felt a genuine love pour out of her and directly into me. The warmth of this love caused me to melt in her arms. Nothing had changed in life; at the same time it felt like all had changed in life. She walked to a table at the center of her living room and picked up a teacup. She placed it in my hands and the warmth of the cup reminded me of the hug she’d just shared with me. Her hands settled around mine as they held the teacup, she then said,
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Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
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Comments (1)
I really enjoyed this set of poems!