Walking down the steps,
looking at the slightly wilted plants,
it still feels, like I am out of place,
yet, down into the basement I go,
she is waiting of course,
a kind, yet oddly stern face,
I imagine she could be a teacher,
if she wanted,
always a glass of water by my side,
she sits down,
takes up her pen and smiles,
so, how are you then?
Beautiful piece of writing Abigail. Thank you for sharing. That question "how are you?" has never had a more profound meaning than asked by such a person. The pen and paper though is a mixed blessing, is it not? On the one hand, it expresses such commitment to understanding "how you are" and on the other hand is quite unnerving, I find.
ReplyDeleteI think this is brave prose so personal My hand reached out as you were walking down those stairs I am taking a wander around if you not mind to read you have inspired captured my interest as always i like your style of writing very much ... beez :)
ReplyDeleteThankyou both for taking the time to write such kind and thought out comments.
ReplyDeleteQuirina, Yes, the pen and paper is a mixed blessing :)
Beez, thanks for joining me on the steps, your more than welcome to wander :)
Thanks again
It was my forays into Nature,
ReplyDeleteWhere I chose to confide
The neurosis of a modern man
The sprits of wild places
Embraced me
Every time was different
When it was time to cry
There was the ocean and streams
To swallow my tears
When I was angry
I burned things in a fire.
When I sought inspiration
The clouds took on shapes
When I needed hope
I planted seeds in the earth
Luckily
I bought my pad and pencil along
Recording the rings of rebirth
That radiated throughout
The trunk of my emerging self
Now there is a book...
A book of my own therapy
Done the natural way.
OneLove--Tiger Windwalker( friend of beez)