Time as vapor

From chapter 11 of An owl on the moon...

     The crisp air dances with the darkness, as winter haunts this autumn evening. My eyes are weary from weeping, for though some in this life see only glory, I see only the grave. The night wrestles with my sorrow, and I work behind my counter with a steady, deadening pace. Perhaps, I will forget. She may never come this way again, that spirited angel. In her words I tasted the vitality of mortal confession. As I work around my cluttered desk, the boney fingers of this cold night scrape the windows of Idler Inn.        

     My glared, cold vision fills with her dark hair and lily face.  Her eyes, a sallow olive hue, appear as pools in stone with no hopeful reflections.  I taste iced iris as it begins to snow.

     “I had to come back.  I couldn’t go on out there. In my wandering I have merely wasted my moments, for I have no rest but here; no home,” she says.

 

“Paradise with poverty.

Meaning without history.

What wasteful ways have I;

I recline and shudder as time goes by.”

 

     “Friend,” she says, “My dearest friend, let me taste the salt and shake under the sea wind.  Give me the key to the top of the stairs.  The veiled room.”  Her eyes dart and dash as her breathing comes shallow and her hands shift and shake.  She steps closer to me.  “What haunted photographs dim my view this moment.  What does it mean that I can only see yesterday?  Cannot God give even me a brighter tomorrow?   I have wasted on life’s stage for so long I don’t know how to live, only how to act.  And the curtain is now descending.”

     I turn away to grasp her key.

     And she, “Don’t avert your gaze from me...So many do.”  Her hand grasps my shoulder and I turn back to gaze into her trembling eyes.  “Is there no warm blood in your cold heart?  I realize that we only have desires because they are meant for some human or divine fulfillment.

 

Extend to me your hand.

I need what I do not understand.

Don’t you see?

All hollows exist to be filled.

Without life in the chasm, our spirit is killed.”

 

     I extend to her my hand and place in hers a key.  Her fingers are warm and soft.  With her key in hand she drifts by in silence on winged feet.  She turns and passes from my vision at the top of the stairs without once glancing back. 

Author's Note

From chapter 11 (November) in my book: "An owl on the moon." The end draws near...

Reviews

[m3lody mae]

Paradise with poverty.
Meaning without history.
What wasteful ways have I;
I recline and shudder as time goes by.”

So deep and with so much meaning in these few words.
Without History we are no one at all. Our lives revolve around History.
I think we all should shudder as time goes by...
There's a lot to learn from each other and as well as history

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

we do always beg and plead in the ending ...one more try, one more look, one more love, one more breath...this makes me hold mine...to hide it...to keep it...and isnt that just the same...there should be peace in it...fufillment...i guess we have not traveled far enough yet....

[An owl on the moon]

I always appreciate your presence, your insights, dear poet. Yes, there is that everlasting aching, to live, yet to be without the pain somehow. Peace, how it eludes so many, no matter what little or how much one has, peace is so often just out of reach.

[Dr. YumnaKay]

"we only have desires because they are meant for some human or divine fulfillment."
Ah, so true. In a way, those desires are our downfall as well as what keeps us going. ..
I love the aura of this write. Strong imagery, as always. And I can't wait to read the end :)

[An owl on the moon]

Ah, Yumna, thank you for understanding every thread, every thought. Wishing you now such a magnificent autumn of joy... unspeakable joy.

[Ardra]

I have wasted on life’s stage for so long I don’t know how to live, only how to act. And the curtain is now descending.”

Mmmm so true...you have capture human emotions so beautifully Craig...And I love the above lines.... Her sadness is so palpable ...
Ah and December almost ready to knock the doors...

[An owl on the moon]

Thank you for your kindness, and for returning to this darkening path each week. The ending is near, and I ache in the curtain's fierce descent. May autumn bring you only joys.