It’s been a while since the pen touched the page.
It takes a certain headspace and heartspace to curve letter forms, to translate love, pain, joy or whatever emotion has been raised, to a sort of external medium.
And forming prose should never involve anguish
or should it.
Is it that anguish sees emotions rise and with that the essence of what creates lyrical meaning.
Is prose a way of casting metaphor around the untouchable fragments of one’s life.
Is it that a certain stream of consciousness flow sees what is within, rise to the fore.
Is it that prose helps the writer to see what’s hidden…as words scatter across the page and what’s within becomes a more tangible concept.
As I cast my gaze beyond my inner world
I see the strands of a web, held gently between a door frame
drifting in the breeze.
Someone’s home, yet no evidence of life.
Beyond, the limbs of a heavily foliaged tree lay low
at some point the dominant green will turn to grey as autumn casts her spell and the leaves fall to the ground.
She’ll become lighter for a season, without the weight of what she birthed in spring and summer.
Yet what lays underneath may mourn for her shade
fragile flowers only needing a slither of sunshine
fern fronds seeking a cool fragrance, catching dew that envelopes growth in winter morn.
Just as the heart seeks the balance of light and shade
so does the garden in all her variety.
There’s a certain rhythm sought in the human and non-human world.
Betwixt and between, the ebb and flow of the seasons, the heart rejoicing in love and scattering into broken shards in grief.
And yet together we continue to move forward, carrying with us the light and the weight
chapters of the past finding a place of solace
filed away, yet a place to return to at certain times when we seek a reminder of life lessons.
Just as the seasons flow year by year, each informing the shape of the next,
so does the human life.
Child hold that mourning, file it carefully. Offer thanks for the learnings.
Stand with grace as you cast your gaze forward.
Trust in love as it cradles you
casts its spell around you as you take these next uncertain steps.
Leigh Donovan, April 2024, Kenmore, Queensland
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