A dreary day in this harbour town

It’s a wet and dreary day in Halifax.  Halifax gives its residents a lot of these days, however, on days like today, when it’s been awhile and we’ve been blessed with sun, I treasure the rain and the fog. It’s somehow endearing in this harbour town, the way a Leonard Cohen song is endearing and brings a mellow sense of peace. It’s a day that makes me we want to cuddle up with a good book or get lost in a world of my own creation, or grab an umbrella and take a walk under the canopy of branches and along the muted streets of the western North End.  It’s a day when I want to let my environment take over and produce words.

Unfortunately, I have a lot to do today and so I can’t do any of those things. The day reminds me though, of the aura I felt while walking through the Night Display last year at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia. On that day, I took inspiration from the sights, sounds and feeling the exhibition gave me. Each part of the exhibited prompted more words.  Here is the result: (For some reason this format won’t let me not double space . . .)

Inspired by the Night Display at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia

Alone

In an ever changing,
Ever beating,
Ever breathing sky.
The pulse quickens

I fly
Feet firmly planted to the ground
I soar
To open my eyes and fall into
Disbelief.

Alone

In an ever changing,
Ever beating,
Ever breathing darkness.

I crouch
Turn ever so slightly at
A breeze that startles,
Teases of another’s breath.
Hope rises and plummets
Into the antonym of ecstasy.

Alone

In an ever constant,
Ever beating,
Ever empty kitchen
That is my own.

I throw up the windowpane
Stand, frozen as the snow drifts
Around me
Covers my cup and bowl,
Slides across the counter and
Tickles my toes,
Awakening me to numbness and
The realization

Alone

I’ve waited
Still
I wait
Ever breathing,
You said you’d come
My heart
You said
Ever beating,
You’d come
My pulse
I’ll wait
Ever changing.
You said

I wait
Feet firmly planted
You left
Soaring where I would not let you
I pushed.
My eyes open in sight of your fall.

Alone

I sit as the snow cradles,
Covering,
Sheltering,
Hiding
My truth.
Slowing
My pulse.

As breeze after breeze reminds me . . .

Copyright 2011

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