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Muse for Monday

Mantra of M3Mantra has rattled the lantern only a few times as of late, and much of what she has sung has nestled between the pages of her newest book… Save this one.

It was is one of only two freestyle poems I can find in more than thirty years of poetry. It comes with no introduction, explanation, excuses or closure. Make of it what you will.

The only way it resembles any of its predecessors is the simplicity of its name.

Hourglass

When the flames begin to fade,
I have to wonder when the darkness will creep back around where the warmth once was.
Somewhere in the science book,
which fed the fire,
was a page which swore the two were mutually exclusive.
Only one could exist at a time;
flame banished darkness like rock does scissors.
Yet, here I am in the twilight with a lukewarm feeling
of what I can hardly describe as aloneness.
Loneliness and I were lovers once upon a nightmare.
He held me closer than a second skin.
His icy touch pierced me deeper than needles meant to deliver
the anesthetic to relieve the pain of losing it all.
His frigid touch drew goose pimples on my skin.
Each pinpointed one part of me
which was above the sunken self I believed myself to be.
I miss him now.
I long for his coldness, here in the near light, the not cold.
At least he showed me I had worth.
All is unfamiliar.
Nothing I touch is mine.
Still, it does not belong to another.
It is not part of the past.
It will play no part in the future.
The only coolness I feel
is the breeze of the sand as it shifts past me.
The only warmth is
where I am wedged in the neck of the hourglass.
Perhaps, I have found my worth here in the end.
I was never meant to be
a beacon of happiness or to shine light into the world.
Instead, I was meant to be the proof time heals nothing.
Since it is relative, from my perspective,
time is flowing in one direction,
but from where you are,
it flows in the opposite.
My bulb grows empty as yours fills.
Too bad no one will ever hear me explain it
or understand the words as I sing them out.
The tone-deaf swan song at the top of my lungs
in tune to the music which has always been in my head,
always leading my feet to dance,
finally in harmony.

120720141716


What do you make of this poem?

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11 Comments

  1. I’m sorry to say life is like that: Relationships, good and bad, come and go and in between we are left alone.

    Tempus Fugits as it may and all our dreams do fade away.

    And with them our immortality…

    Love and huge hugs my sweet friend! 🙂

    Prenin.
    prenin recently posted..Sunday – A trip to the Co-Op.My Profile

    Reply
    • ’tis true, Pren. Yet, this is about an absence of reason. It creates a void which is very, monstrously different from the absence of love.

      Reply
  2. My impression of this poem is as follows…

    In the beginning there is a happiness and through a life’s experiences of heartache the energy fades, each moment darkening, ebbing away the glowing spirit.

    As an opposite to the Midas touch, here everything is greying, being swallowed up and disappearing. The awareness of everything breaking down, and nothing worth living for, as in a goodbye if you will.

    I could be miles off track with this one but that is how I read it, and I did read this several times before offering my thoughts on it.

    Have a lovely rest of afternoon Red and be wicked, I know that you will be my sweet friend 🙂

    Andro xxxx

    Reply
  3. My friend, it works through. Time being one of those things that is least our friend, in shortest supply and seems to run counter to our needs most often. Yet, still it works through.

    I am sorry, truly. It isn’t enough sometimes.
    Valentine Logar recently posted..Your Azz is ShowingMy Profile

    Reply
    • It makes me want to invert the equation and solve time travel, though. My guess is the spark of Dammit which goes with it remains of value. xxx

      Reply
  4. ” A poignant poem Red…… ” Time Heals Nothing”.. I can relate so well to these 3 simple words amid the muse of your words of your loneliness and perspective. Only you my friend can shift the sand from the place you reside wedged in the middle…

    I felt privileged to enter your space within the hour-glass……….. Love and Blessings Sue
    Sue Dreamwalker recently posted..A Matter of Opinion~ Judgement & TrustMy Profile

    Reply
    • And I am glad you have. Truly, the healing of time is merely the shift in the perspective. Perhaps, you will get the chance to see of what I speak in the parsing so this poem today. Much love, Sue. xxx

      Reply
  5. I felt, as well, this was about a relationship and time passing but not healing. Still the words and feel are poignant, wistful and sad.

    Reply
    • It does have a wistful, nostalgic feel to it. It really is not about a relationship… but that is another post.

      Reply
  1. Objects in Hourglass may appear… | The M3 Blog

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