Images that inspire poetry that trails off into the forest to collect acorns to string into songs.
Out there, covered in polka dots and endless gingham.
Its a place quiet souls wander.
Cocooned by dappling light, enveloped by lingering green morning dew, wafting through steams from a cast-iron kettle, endless cups of tea. Still hearts and soft breaths. Dreams. Those countless dreams sailing away into glittering blue, into a whirl of tumbling seaweed. Nudging, ever closer, to the start of something new.
We wrestle with the darkness that spills out from within those little cracked, forlorn places we hide behind bright smiles, warm embraces...sweet words. Like ink stains it spreads out till it covers us, spreading to painted sheets. Relishing, in self pity, repelling, in knowing better. Till we exhaust from the fight.
Hold out. Hold still.
A ember of light. Soon it floods the landscape, bathing everything aglow, baring us, seeking those secrets we harbour, like provisions for winter. Here we are. Nowhere to hide. We say our goodbyes.
each open door, entrench us deeper still. staining each page colbalt, with memories. with mistakes. turning pages descend us further into the abyss.
turn back.