Awakening

and then dew drops’ magic enveloped me in mist of fine doubt gave me an idea of what it meant not to have the foggiest haze of why and how I had been feeling so miserably blindfolded by an illusion of clarity and the certain belief that I had dried out yesterday my inglenook had distilled an out of body experience ember and ashes had displaced passion and held my fire at bay molten candles by the hearthside like liquified waning of Self had drowned the wick and with it comfort and glimmer of hope cold inside I woke to a deluge of solid wax from a mantlepiece a fluidum of solidity disguised in stagnant escape from discharge of apathic emotions too immobile to flow freely and yet real enough to freeze that last modicum of release and resistance only when I heard a sparrow chirping away on the window sill flustered and hungry for life did I thaw thirsting for another day a vernal equinox had crossed a celestial and steadfast equator but my time line shifted for a bird does not question its faith morning air was still cold and I wished for woollen hat and gloves to heed frosted panes and place seeds on the ledge to feed the moment pain sorrow and clouded perspective faded away in the tentative sun and the mouldy mothball of my soul gave cautious way to a new dawn 19th February 2021