Christmas Market, Annecy, France

In the blue of a winter afternoon, cold and riddled with snarling anxiety,

I drank German beer in a French bar, hanging from the ropes of my thoughts

across from Lake Annecy. My lips trembled like the flapping wings of a bee,

As my sips swelled in intensity.

I was left with nothing but the patience to wait for the good weather of my Soul.

For days prior, I was a frost-bitten funeral, mourning the glare of a burning pyre.

Deceived by the tricksters of my mind, I searched for locations to hibernate, but could not sleep…I did not dare dream.

The structure of time, the past, and fear of the future made me ill.

I desired the infinity of the present.

I wanted eyes not touched by time.

Along the lake, I walked and sowed my stars to my feet,

treading the ground softly like a cloud from the starry sky.

I saw my reflection in the very clear blue of the water;

trotting like a wild wounded horse upon the surface.

In the evening, white as a ghost

I sat with my hands over my face on my bed, weeping hysterically to my sweetheart.

The dew of my tears ran down my cheeks like rain down the window of a haunted house.

I threw, like stones, Love and Strength through the window!

After mopping up the broken glass, I ventured out into the streets

where the smell of Christmas adorned the gentle wind.

I nosed around the wooden chalets of the Christmas market,

Looking at hand-made jewellery, magical snow globes, decorative ceramics, etc…

And tasted glowing wine the flavour of time-honoured perfume.

It was very busy and like a child lost I was nervous.

The noise of the crowd clamoured my senses.

I shivered with the thrashing of a storm…

Disturbed and burdened by false dreams.

To try and overcome my burdens, I went into the crowd, where the guitar band played.

The music rattled my bones…

A woman with bottle in hand tried to make conversation.

I did not dare speak.

I panicked like a deer with nowhere to go in a forest enflamed.

I tried to escape and found only walls of flame.

With nowhere to go,

I threw, like water, Love and Strength onto the fire!

And wood burned with the embers of Saints.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Beautifully penned. Wonderfully descriptive and reminded me of how the state of anxiety can turn us into wrecks. We can exist but not fully live life to the full with it.

I panicked like a deer

I know that feeling but I have strategies.

Chris