Rooms Need Not Be Locked But Windows Opened
Hybrid poem
The promise of an empty room
where there are no locks to be lodged
No imprint of time to be known
It’s an unknown tone like a solo trumpeter hidden in the tree-lined shade of the river bank while his tunes drift atop the sunlit water
carried off with the wind, accompanied by the chattering of leaves.
Adrift we are unknown together — me and this open room— no furniture of things that have been stored and stashed — held onto long after the moment has passed — nothing to maneuver around and past regrets kept for what hasn’t been — what should have been — what might have been if only we had…
Aroused by the sheerness of a curtain blowing in quiet consent, I witness, listen, intuit what has not yet been — a canvas for discovering while my heart bids adieu to the whispers and clatter of what I’ve known before but no longer harbor in a hidden drawer or covet between the sheets of youth.
Just as the trumpeter’s preceding note has been carried off by a breeze and the non-objecting current of time.
I take root in this open space, accepting my anonymity — letting go of forgotten fate for it all fades… oh how it all fades… when we finally free ourselves from the past — quit clinging to this torn and tattered mast of what we ought to be… embodying all that remains unseen.
Breathe & Be Still
