The Lights Went Out
A poem that came to me the other day while attending to my garden.
Time passed in a constrained fashion.
Over the years, the garden
became her pride and expression
of all she hoped to pass on,
Remembering childhood tales
from a friend’s grandfather
who convinced her that bird’s nests
in the ivy walls, were fairy lairs
and magic was inherent in all of nature.
That excitement and wonder
never left her
all those decades later.
Though life almost battered
the enchantment out of her
a remnant remained.
Igniting an imagination and entry
to her exquisite inner worlds,
where such things were as real
Yes, to this day.
and the garden became enriched
with fairy lights,
figurines peeping from ferns,
wind chimes gave voice to the breeze
and everything sang to her soul.
She knew their enchantment
was a deposit in their memory banks
Their delight became tinkling bells
and soothing gongs
echoing timelessly in her heart.
A lightening bolt!
cruel fate tore them from her arms
and their sacred space.
The agony of loss became expanded vision
for all children and so
The ‘Fairy Garden’ was born.
Much joy was derived
seeing small hands on the gate
as parents and grandparents
lifted the infants high
to try to catch a nature sprite in action.
she wearily summoned the energy
to trim the hedges, where the lights
gave sparkling joy in summer
and spoke of hope
in dark winter nights.
Immersed in the stolen years,
lost in time
her hands slipped…
severing the line
to everything she tried to maintain.
Viewing the metaphorical end
The lights went out