She strapped the skates
to her shoes, tightened
with a key worn on a string
around her neck. Off she flew
to lands of diamond crusted
mushrooms, spores of chocolate
on backs of ferns, magic
feet rolling faster and faster,
scabby knees, squeals of delight,
she became her dreams on a summer day.
Where are the skates of years long ago?
Where is the key that opened the door of
possibilities? Dreams faded, hope gone,
skates lost, carelessly thrown away.
She sips her coffee, sighs at a sunrise
announcing the start of another day
to be endured, an annoying bird
trills outside her window,
children’s giggles above signal
their return from slumber, dog
scratching at the door to be let
out–one more demand in her life,
shower starting, husband singing off-key,
she used to think it charming, now it grates
across her with painful memories of happier days.
Where did the rainbows go?
She hates the darkness within that
bubbles like a witch’s brew,
poisoning her and all she touches,
flowers withering at her gaze.
There are no more tomorrows,
no hope, no dreams, no chance
for an angel’s kiss to heal.
Is today the day she has longed for,
a day with no tomorrow?
But then what happens?
That niggly question that
stills her hand and forces
her feet forward again.
Which theory is right–
empty void, burning fire,
for sure no hope for a celestial court
for her, or her greatest fear,
return and try again,
another life to live?
There have been a series of suicides in our little town recently, and now Dana, of Truth Spoke in Whispers, shares with us her decision to end her life. This touches me deeply for I, too, was at that point many years ago. How well I remember the pain and hopelessness. Perhaps that is why my peace and joy today is so cherished. I expect many who ready this have been at that crossroad–suicide is no stranger in many lives. For those of us who moved past that time of darkness, we have a strength that is the gift of having made the choice to live. Can we pass this hope, this faith, this knowing that all life is precious, to Dana? Or do we just love her, honor her decision, and walk with her to the end? If you want to share your experience, wisdom, or faith with Dana, leave your message at:
submitted to Monday Potluck Poetry