By Dawn M. Sanders
Cold bright day,
I bathed in the strong wintry sun – pouring through my window, as if to remind me he isn’t gone, he’s still there.
Today started mild, with a cool breeze outside, as December pierced the air.
When I stepped outside my front door, it was cold, damp – not the sunny side of the building that serves as my humble dwelling.
The day is fading and soon the dark will sweep across the land as the cold bites.
I huddle inside, listening for the occasional twit twit twitter of a seagull.
And at winter solstice, the longest night of the year, I light a candle, piercing the darkness to bring back the light.
My resolve is fading. Been knocking on doors again, trying, trying – laying out what I’ve done, what I can do, what I want to do, but I had to chase for a reply.
Been doing it for years.
Knocking, petitioning – posting my enthusiasm through locked doors, pressing my nose through the glass as those inside have their backs turned, no one is looking, no one is paying attention.
Another year is nearly gone, this year I ached, we all ached.
What a year of heartbreak, death, loss, estrangement and yes, tyranny.
The tyranny! It’s creeping across the land like the early night, as we’re more and more paralysed in its wake.
Paralysed, like creatures slowly turning to stone.
What a year of heartbreak.
This year I broke from the clutches, of love, of care, of a clinging vine I just couldn’t carry – but I didn’t have to, he carried me, but set me back on my feet again, alone, tired, stranded.
I stepped away from a solid rock, as the moss began to appear and, there was a risk of slipping .
Every year is the wheel of life. It turns and goes and turns around again.
Every decade is a time, a stage, a period. The 60s for change and reawakening. The 80s for greed and status.
The new millennium has brought the setting of the sun, the last stretch of our long, declining journey.
A final reign of terror, torment, with a plea for pardoning and peace.
And as the light fades from the world, we are left grasping in the gathering gloom.
I step away from the house of fools – the institution where, they opened the door and let in a liar – he didn’t even have to knock hard, not in the way I do.
And as darkness outside has fallen, my lights have come on inside, it’s warm, I’m safe.
Yet, will we have to retreat to a nether world to escape the darkness of our age, our time?
Will we be fooled by friendlier faces of tyranny, the kinder gentler hands that tie us up and turn us to stone?
The season has found us, it will touch us all.
Will our children see the light of day?
Will our young be the pipers of a new dawn?
The dark season is upon us, as our eyes must adjust, will humanity have the courage and strength to raise its head, to glimpse a twinkling star?