War? What war? Death? What Death? Through the afternoon, my work done for the day, I return to an open space, too vast to hear the distant sounds of broken thoughts, as if they were miles away. Here, in the citadel, I sit for hours, mind seeing nothing at all, yet outside this newfound paradise, however unreal, the cry of so many reach the exterior walls. I know them, each sound, new, but still, a memory, a moment to be. The fires rage unforeseen, not knowing when they might be again, brought into the storms of consciousness. So I sit for awhile still, mind engaged. What now? I ask. This moment. The answer. Peace, I have found you, will anyone else? Tonight, I know I will sleep softly, and for a moment, and I hope that will always be. But I do not know, I do not know. But for now, this stillness, this calm, could be the greatest gift I can offer, at least this time, this time. Time? What is time? Broken? What is broken? And to heal, what must I do? There isn’t an answer, but a sea of silence opens before me, and I know I must leave it soon, to return again the the burning fields.
The Reluctant Blogger 