In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Chaos
Take Off The Lid
(On the Chaos in My Mind)
©May 9th, 2016
Want a peek into pure chaos?
Lift the lid to my brain
Go on, do it!
Ah, I knew you were too scared
Worried about what you’d find, eh?
Here, I’ll take you by the hand,
Shine a torch into the darkened corridors
Let the air in a bit.
Here’s a room filled with insecurity:
Too many doubts, too few doubts,
Too much judgement:
For doing, or not doing,
For being, or not being
This, or that, or the other.
Castigate myself:
Too many moral standards
To vault over.
Too many ambivalences,
Too many opposing pulls:
Should I, shouldn’t I?
Why should I?
Too many fears, unspoken anxieties.
Commitments to flee from
Commitments to bind myself with.
And while loving getting older,
I’m hating it with a passion.
Wishing to borrow this mind
And inhabit my younger self.
Walk cautiously, the dust will
Choke you, trip you up.
Here’s a room filled with joy:
Music, music, music swirling
Like flower-strewn winds.
Rich pleasure in simply being
In my skin, oh how lovely!
Love, so much love, bursting
With love for so many!
Sensuous joy – mine alone.
All that sunlight to drink,
All those colors to steep my skin in,
All those fragrances in which to drown,
All those birds to gaze at,
All those silken scarves to
Brush against my silken skin.
(Older silk is sweeter, by far)
All the love my husband pours over me,
And which gives me life.
The sweet hugs my daughter gives me
When I do some simple thing for her.
All the pleasures of moving
Feeling my limbs working,
Feeling sunlight and warmth
The sliding down of grateful food
The slipping of delicious drink
That soft sigh my dog makes when
The night makes her curl up.
The sense of spinning from
The earth, as I walk gratefully
Upon her, enjoying life.
Walk cautiously, the clamor here
Can be deafening, even if it’s
A noisy celebration, and
The lights are too bright.
And it’s all jumbled up here.
Sometimes, in the midst of
This room of joy, a remembered
Sorrow trips me up.
I could organize all this,
Label them neatly and file
Them away into happy
Memory drawers, a file cabinet of sorts,
But they’re ongoing. They’re alive,
Not forgotten, not lost.
I need to move some of them
Into another room, larger, quieter,
But for now, I let them lie,
Ready to leap into life.
And sometimes in the room of
Deep insecurity, piled high
With old worries, or privations,
I see a passage of pure light,
Leading to an open window,
And see that I simply need
To chuck most of that stuff out,
But not into the yard,
No, chuck them out, and make
Them vanish with a simple spell.
That would restore order,
But allow some chaos
To linger amidst it all.
I wouldn’t mind that.
For, in chaos,
Surprises lurk, and lie in wait.
And I don’t mind a little dust,
Even if it makes me cough.
And the occasional gleaming jewel
I find, as I pass through, is worth
A thousand dust bunnies.
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