The silence is deafening
As I extend an unwelcome hand
Side by side we remain together
But distinctly apart
I saw my hero of old yesterday
He asked me
How are you?
I replied
I am good thanks
And smiled
How are you?
I didn’t realize
What I had said until it was said
Until I saw the shock in your eyes
The pain in your words
The hurt in your voice
If I could take it back
If I could reverse time
If I could unsay thoughtless words
If I could think before I speak
If I could do all those things
I would do it
Delicate dreams
Fragile and free
Float on air
In their vulnerability
And when all is quiet
I realize
All I’ve ever done
Is blow empty bubbles
To no one there
Words have power
I see it every day
Building up and
Breaking down
It forces either way
Words have power
This I know
For what is typed
And what is said
Reveals the naked soul
Memories in my mind
Question their being
Beg me to share
The brief moment
They were
Briefly and fleetingly
Created with care
And lasted but
A few blinks only
Of the eternal prayer
Like wind in the trees
Vapor in air
Subtle lingering scent
And as soon as they lived
As quickly they died
I discovered this song yesterday, quite by accident. I was listening to Transvision Vamp (remember them?), and stumbled across this offering from Wendy James. I love it!
Lucy Grace can’t show her facedown in the North End Road
For in Belgravia
Rumours have been whispered
and suggestions have been made
Did you sell your friends out
when the heat got too intense?
You say you like the danger
but it’s only a pretence
You say you need the money
When everybody knows you can
always fall back on your inheritance
Did you bruise your arms on those false alarms?
Did you bruise your pride on his smile so wide?
Only fingertips from forbidden bliss
Did you bruise your lips in this basement kiss?
Who’s that sneaking round the door?
You can’t come here no more
Can’t you go home again?
She used to sit alone for hours
Spend her evenings watering dried flowers
When her mother came to stay
and finally went to bed
Lucy Grace was in the front room
shooting through your head
She tried to take your breath away
and give you something else instead
Next year she’ll serve her function
in that Audrey Hepburn hat
It still won’t serve her much
but she’ll get over that
She’ll be pale and feign indifference
as they’re handing out the prizes
Spilling Daddy’s pearls of wisdom
And her ugly sister’s tranquilizers
Why were you so tardy putting up your guard?
When you hurt so easily and you try so hard
Did you bruise your arms on those false alarms?
Did you bruise your pride on his face so snide?
Only fingertips from forbidden bliss
Did you bruise your lips in this basement kiss?
Sometimes, when confronted with something bigger than I can comprehend, my mind automatically reverts to details. Immediately after my mother passed away, when at the time it was so sudden and unexpected, my mind went into survival-mode. What are the next steps? What to do now? My mind focused more on practical day-to-day living than on the fact that I had lost my one and only mother. When I stopped to think about it, my pain was around the fact that I would never hear her voice again. I often have dreams where I am trying to call her and she doesn’t answer the phone. Or she doesn’t want to speak to me. Her voice is not heard.
A colleague is going through a difficult time. I immediately went into survival-mode, and became detail-driven. How did it happen? What next? What did you do? What are you going to do? He said to me, it would only be from you, Vonita. All these questions, and lack of subtlety.
Perhaps it is a lesson to just be still. To feel the pain that others feel. To have a heart that is soft. To allow myself to feel my own loss and pain. To have empathy.
