Paulelmo's Blog

“Muted, Yet Splashing”–a bit brighter poem

 

 

I am not bi-polar, but my drinking life did bring a certain amount of manic depression with it. I might have blind-sided you with a piece from the dark times today. I put the word “sad” in the subject line to warn anyone who might not be up for heavy fare at the time.

Still, it was not all doom and gloom. I spent much of my life quite nicely in those days, and since I gave you some of the darkness today, I’ll give you some of the brightness this evening. Like so many of these from that period around 2000, I recall writing this well. In my mind, I link it to the likes of things like “Insomnia and the Concert of the Night” and “A Matter of Character,” in that it’s part of a day I spent alone, living the life of the mind. Hope you enjoy it. Feel free to share.

 

Much love.

 

Muted, Yet Splashing

I sat and listened to rain pouring upon pavement, splashing but

muted by the heavy air of a summer morning.

I wanted to run outside, to celebrate the shower and

maybe kick around in a puddle or two.

I didn’t, however, because I am not the child that I once was.

Instead, I pulled a brown and white shoulder bag from

the metal handle of my closet door.

From inside of it I plucked pencils and pens and markers,

every manner of black and brown and

white and gray and purple and blue.

I began to draw my idea of

rain splashing on pavement and

muted by the heavy air of a summer morning.

It wasn’t long before I felt rain

on the face of the child that I once was.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: