The Silence of My Heart
In this last week, I have turned into my cocoon. Comfortably snuggled in warmth generated by my ownself,basking in secure darkness, and cherishing warm silence. Is it emotional lethargy or emotional pain that is doing this to me?.
I hear children arguing, playing, negotiating, threats of " I'll tell the teacher". I hear tiny footsteps coming towards me with anger and hope that I'll be the hero who'll bring about justice in the unjust world where toys are assests, and have to be guarded and fought over using whatever you have. I'm so lost in the darkness of my thoughts, I can't even navigate my way out. The hurt victim repeats her story and pleas, I just can't focus. I finally look up at her; eyes so bright looking intently at me in hope of justice. The innocence of her face, the faith in her eyes makes me bend over and kiss her. I hug her tight, not because she needed it but because I did. Her little warm hands wrap themselves around me, her pink lips plant kisses on me. She has to go; Back to her world of toys and playmates. I try distracting her to keep her close to me, but she was not going to fall for it.
I question my own goodness as a person, the spirituality of my own soul. Why does the weight of events linger so long in the corners of the heart?. Not even strong gushing rain washes it away. It's an eerie but comforting silence, like the silence after the storm. The ocean appers calm, not a ripple, not a sound; uniform dumbfounded silence like the silence of a town struck by an explosion. The loss is too grave for words, the effects too far reached for comprehension, the event so unexpected and unneeded.
Baracades everywhere, security on high alert, the goal is survival, everyone is a suspect.
" Can I color?", " Look at the house I made".......I don't hear the content of what's being said but I hear the need for my approval, my permission, my response.
And in some strange way, it's like sunlight for the cocoon. It makes the inside just a little bit warmer.
I hear children arguing, playing, negotiating, threats of " I'll tell the teacher". I hear tiny footsteps coming towards me with anger and hope that I'll be the hero who'll bring about justice in the unjust world where toys are assests, and have to be guarded and fought over using whatever you have. I'm so lost in the darkness of my thoughts, I can't even navigate my way out. The hurt victim repeats her story and pleas, I just can't focus. I finally look up at her; eyes so bright looking intently at me in hope of justice. The innocence of her face, the faith in her eyes makes me bend over and kiss her. I hug her tight, not because she needed it but because I did. Her little warm hands wrap themselves around me, her pink lips plant kisses on me. She has to go; Back to her world of toys and playmates. I try distracting her to keep her close to me, but she was not going to fall for it.
I question my own goodness as a person, the spirituality of my own soul. Why does the weight of events linger so long in the corners of the heart?. Not even strong gushing rain washes it away. It's an eerie but comforting silence, like the silence after the storm. The ocean appers calm, not a ripple, not a sound; uniform dumbfounded silence like the silence of a town struck by an explosion. The loss is too grave for words, the effects too far reached for comprehension, the event so unexpected and unneeded.
Baracades everywhere, security on high alert, the goal is survival, everyone is a suspect.
" Can I color?", " Look at the house I made".......I don't hear the content of what's being said but I hear the need for my approval, my permission, my response.
And in some strange way, it's like sunlight for the cocoon. It makes the inside just a little bit warmer.
posted by Enigma at 10:03 PM
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