#72 Poetry – For her.

When you awake from the slumbers of sleeps silky caress,
Let the creaking door remind you that not all is made to be perfect,
Let the dull light of twilight creeping in remind you that the ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ is not simply a metaphor,
Let the silence before the hum of day remind you that you still have your voice,
And let the voice of others, familiar and no so, remind you that yours is never alone.

But be patient. Don’t look for fast feet too soon. The head knows where it needs to be.

If shudders should ripple under cloudiness of thought, it is your mind casting lines into rough waters seeking a memory. Be patient. Remember that storms sometimes live in tea cups and tea cups can be deep wells you keep going back to draw from. It will be there when you forget.

And if you should fall into that dark place of your mind, I hope you find the walls of solitude lined with cobwebs, filtering your thoughts. May it help you find clarity as surly as the drip, drip, dripping is the last sound before the storm ends. You will always find your way out.

So when you close your eyes and feel the monotonous pulse of beeping contraptions, let it alas remind you that life has it’s own rhythm that need not to be tamed but nurtured.

It may not make sense to you right now, but remember that in the best of all possible worlds, we are often never where we want to be but always where we are meant to be.

by Hans Lee

Brain blargh

I initially wrote this poem with a friend of mine who was suddenly admitted to hospital. It evolved as a co-written poem, and indeed it still is. I drew from her experience. She allowed herself to be vulnerable.

One of the powers of writing is the ability of the writer to connect/place themselves intensely into the world of their chosen subjects. Not just being limited to the moment though, the writer can look into their subjects past and future.

She had mentioned in passing that that week was a huge week for her, the unfortunate turn of circumstances fizzled into what I recognised as frustration. Frustration is a hard pill to swallow. And seeing her mustering her strength on the hospital bed only evidenced the fact that she did not want to admit the inevitable – that she would miss that important week.

As the events transpired she was eventually  flown out of the country (which was quite exciting to watch unfold). In spite of her frustrations, I think it was a lesson that she needed to learn. She’d probably not agree with that statement but silver linings come in boxes of all sizes. This was a big one that she needed to carry it home with her.

My only fear was that she would descend into a big black hole that would be hard to climb out of. She complained about cloudiness of thought, how it annoyed her. I could see the darkness left by the night she took with her. Those dark places are akin to stormy seas in tea cups. Where mums reasoning words are thunder and lighting all at once. These are temper tantrums that have no apparent reason but borne, again, from frustration. But this dark place is also a place of solitude to use as a place of reflection.

Often times things happen that are beyond our control. When we try to fight the universe, it makes things worse. I have come to the realisation that if things are to happen, they will do so at their own turn of pace. Do not rush it. “Don’t look for fast feet too soon.”Just go with it. That is the message of the last stanza: “It may not make sense to you right now, but remember that in the best of all possible worlds, we are often never where we want to be but always where we are meant to be.”

So be patient. Do not look for fast feet too soon, and remember we are often never where we want to be but always where we are meant to be.

Hans Lee

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