Window Lullaby

Photo by Ivy Son on Pexels.com

So I don’t usually post things I just write cause I’m they could just seem ok to me because I’m emotionally connected to them. Being quarantined in a room, I’m probably going a bit stir crazy and it’s reflected in the poem. When I think of this whole epidemic/disaster (as with most disasters), there is just such a feeling of grief and loneliness. We often assume grief is directed directly at losing someone, but we grieve all the time. Loneliness, in its own way, is grief that is telling us we need companionship. As a writer and storyteller, I’m drawn to words, images, objects. If someone says the word lonely to me, I have a few projections in my head. One of the first that comes to mind for me is the idea of someone sitting by a window overlooking a city or, as the picture above shows, encaged by a window from life. It’s also of old sad waltzes and record players that would blare the sadness the heart experiences out into the world if it could. It’s of having to go to dreams to get the experiences you want in reality. I think during times of loss, these are things people do. I know this is temporary for many people and it’s being done to reduce the sad reality that for some people there will be grief over the actual loss of human life. I think, for me, making meaning of things is so important in times of great struggle. I think perhaps we took the earth for granted and maybe we’ll start to see how powerful she is and that we need her way more than she needs us. I think also we take each other for granted. Human to human connection is so important. We need each other. We need to be touched, held, comforted, encouraged, smiled at by each other. When I wrote this, that is what I kept thinking about. When this is all over, we will really know how great the ability to live, learn, love, and interact with each other is. Perhaps we will become more mindful in our lives and really be present with those we love and those we are surrounded by. I hope so. Good needs to be learned. Just like in a war, people lost their lives here literally. We need to walk back into the world, when it is safe and ready for us, and not let their lives be lost in vein. I think the way we do that is to treasure each other like we never have before.

Slowed Moments

In these slowed moments, when you got a beautiful song, but nobody to sing along,
And you’re telling them your strong, but the truth is it’s your bare skin rubbing along
The sheets at night. Telling you, you’re still alive. Don’t let your your heart go soft on me tonight.

Staring out the windows of this room, listening to a waltz and the moon.
Maybe I dream too long or just cannot touch what I can write.
Words are a dime a bushel, but you can’t see or touch the apples,
But you sure can imagine what’d be like. To take that bite.

I can remember times when this room shook with a horrible thunder,
It rattled the already wood chipped frames. The lightening zapped
And the stormed passed and I’m standing in that same place of calm now,
A city darkened without power. Still a city somehow with or without lights.

Closed. It’s in us all today. Robbed of the start of a new centuries spring.
Another ice-box dinner meal microwaved. A world in waiting for things coming.
A beach, a lover, a special name given to you by a friend said to your face.
It’s like a clearance sale occurred on everything you knew to be
And hanging the sign on the store that says ‘closed,’ knowing
Nothing left here to sell but skin and bone and that’s we’ve sold it all to protect.

Last night, I had the the best dream. Every night, it seems
I have the best dreams. They’re so simple and feel so real.
Most of the time, I’m just doing something stupid with someone I know,
But we are together, and I can reach out and touch their skin,
And we’re back in a world where interaction doesn’t have to fear contamination.

It helps me remember, it’s the simple gestures, no fuss, that always protect us.
I’m sorry for every moment I ever wasted breaths with those I love
Thinking about anything other than what was directly in front of me.
Times are tough, but I promise I’ll keep waiting for those simple gestures.
If you promise to laugh, sneeze, hold my hand, and hug me more than ever
Now that we know those things aren’t promised. They’re to be treasured.

In these slowed moments, know I’m playing you a song.
Standing by a window imagining you singing along.
The room might be bare, but what’s inside me is all I need.
I’ll keep dreaming to see you, if you promise to meet me there
Until we can sit with each other and not take for granted
All the incredible things, we bring, to each other.
Simple & so, so sweet…

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