It is well, when in difficulties, to say never a word, neither black nor white. Speech is silver but silence is golden.
Muriel Spark, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (via wordsnquotes)
In a botanical garden
And sauntering I pondered
Of a love of long ago
Thinking on why I tramped
On his lovely soul.
Regrets, they overwhelm me,
They catch me in my Slumber
And paralyse me in my sleep,
They shame me in every corner the sun hits,
Making my heart tremble.
They gnaw at me.
In my sauntering and pondering
I caught sight of you Lilac
And a desire to be like you overcame me,
Oh if I was like you
I would have your temperate aura,
I would not be a despot
And my soul would not be in a constant riot.
How is it that your beauty seems
More splendid than your counterparts
And yet you grow and dwell
Still star of the ground,
In you a heroine I have found,
Oh dear Lilac teach me to be like you,
Blossom before me and teach me your ways…
I stood halfway between time and life,
Clenching my soul with my teeth
While the journey before me ascended steep.
I stood halfway between the truth and the lie
While a voice beyond me, above the sky Vociferated the most mystical cries.
Oh, I couldn’t leave them, the cries Couldn’t turn the other cheek,
The body that I had wasn’t mine,
That is why the voice beyond me
Vociferated the most legendary cry.
I am standing halfway between death and life,
Not living nor alive,
Listening to ghosts playing dices, Watching them Making bets on my life,
Listening to phantoms watching their Pasts play out vicariously through mine,
Imagining that all in due time
Everything could be fine.
I stood halfway between time and life making deep decisions about my life,
Giving fate and time
My blind eyes,
Wondering where in the world
One could turn away and hide.
Not feeling too good
I wish I had not got a cold,
The wind is big and wild,
I wish that I was very old,
Not just a little child.
Somehow the day is very long
Just keeping here, alone;
I do not like the big wind’s song,
He’s growling for a bone
He’s like an awful dog we had
Who used to creep around
And snatch at things—he was so bad,
With just that horrid sound.
I’m sitting up and nurse has made
Me wear a woolly shawl;
I wish I was not so afraid;
It’s horrid to be small.
It really feels quite like a day
Since I have had my tea;
P’raps everybody’s gone away
And just forgotten me.
And oh! I cannot go to sleep
Although I am in bed.
The wind keeps going creepy-creep
And waiting to be fed.