It’s a belief which I have always had.
Always strived for,
as tulips continue to bloom in the snow.
The tailor at the end of the road,
and scent of walnuts in the air.
One would think it’s impossible
for the heart to cope so much,
as clouds whisper amongst each other—
but there comes a time
when we learn to follow nothing else
Again and again, as though misfiring;
the arrows of sincerity kept missing the target,
they kept going through them as if smoke,
as if mere words thrown into the open
oh, how I believed, I believed with every fibre
of my being,
as the wind converses with mulberry trees.
It’s uncanny, when we are younger,
consequences are but the last thing on the mind,
the restaurant, unchanging, stands in place
only mindset has altered.
Did I mention the tears? Loss of self along
the way and dejection,
I stood by like a sailor on the tempestuous sea,
awaiting the shore
which never seemed to come into sight,
only a glimmer,
only flashes of pearly romance to tease,
until now— now that January is smiling.
expressing actively what the core feels,
down to the toes,
trembling with anticipation.
The tulips bobbed their head in unison;
the flutes played with the violas,
I would have accepted anything, anything
but the idea of giving up,
as though the moon refusing to wax and wan,
why do we forget that conviction
is a circle?
It leaves no space for doubt to enter.
The children laughing in cobblestone streets,
shaped by amount of ease that resides inside,
I observe them from a distance.
‘The world is your oyster’, as the saying goes,
not every road
leads directly to where we wish to go,
some have detours,
some come with thistle and thorn
but mostly, the road teaches us to appreciate
the journey we have led,
to be unafraid of the drop in temperature.
I would have kept going,
even if it meant
that seasons in the end are misanthropic,
I wouldn’t have given up on belief.
But as of now, this moment,
I am enjoying every detail there is of a tulip,
I have come a long way.
Photo credits: Pinterest
For my prompt tonight at dVerse where I invite others to become the embodiment
of winter. I chose to write inspired by Horses in the Hill by Roberta Hill Whiteman.
Posted for Poetics: The Blizzard of the Self @dVerse Poets Pub