For all those who will not ... [#11]

For all those who will not understand

You bloomed within me, a deep-red spot as bright as dawn. You shone light on my inadequacies, shadow-hiding doubts. My mornings of marigolds and dandelions become ensnared in bindweed, choking my sense of worth, burying my heart. I struggled to cry out.

At noon I burned until I fled back into caves and become water-seep and moss then fungus-blind. One ember hid beneath the ashes. I vowed never to come out. You dragged me out. Left me to die of thirst or rot.

Vesper bells clang out over what was left. Not much. No marigolds. No morning glories. Only half-remembered regrets of what was stolen or what was lost. The ember now glowed weakly. Yet a gentle breeze had lifted hope.

Your effort to weed the essence of myself had been for naught. Moon-flowers willow whispered "thou art even as the last trace of sunlight upon the mountaintop." Your day was done. And the pain you promised was fading.

© Kåre Enga [168.220] #18 November 14, 2013

Note to self, previous version: You bloom within me, a deep-red spot bright as dawn. You shine your light on my inadequacies, shadow-hiding doubts. My mornings of marigolds and dandelions become ensnared in your bindweed, choking my sense of worth, burying my heart. I struggle to cry out.

At noon I burn until I flee back into my caves and become water-seep and moss, fungus-blind. I keep one ember alive under the ashes. I vow never to come out. You drag me out. Leave me to die of thirst or rot.

Vesper bells clang out over what is left. Not much. No marigolds. No morning glories. Only half-remembered regrets of what was stolen or what was lost. The ember glows weakly. A gentle breeze lifts my hopes.

All your effort to root out the essence of myself have been for naught. For "thou art even as the last trace of sunlight upon the mountaintop." Your day is done. And the pain you promised is fading.