Rage, Rage 10

Rage, Rage
10

My body’s house
has many rooms
and you, my love,
are present in them all.

I glimpse your shadow
in the mirror, and your breath
brushes my cheek
when I open the door.
Where have you gone?

I walk from room to room,
but when I seek,
I no longer find
and nothing opens
when I knock.

Afraid, sometimes,
to enter a room,
I am sure
you are in there.

I hear your footsteps.
Sometimes your voice
breaks the silence
when you whisper my name
in the same old way.

Comment:

Rage, Rage – and still I rage against the dying of the light and, like Dylan Thomas, ask the ageing of this world not to go gentle into that dark night. Yet, as my beloved and I age, we watch day’s shadows growing longer, and night stealing steadily along. What can we do?

Well, since the winter solstice, we can start counting the minutes as each day adds a minute or two and gifts some more light and strength to the sun. Sunrise today – 8:03 AM. Sunset today – 5:09 PM. That means 9 hours and 6 minutes of sunlight. Well, it would, if it weren’t cloudy, with a cold wind, and a dropping temperature. My guess is that it will get dark much before it ought to. And that’s not nice – no respect!

Of course, my beloved is a sun bunny and a Leo, and she perishes in these shortened days. I was born in them and they don’t affect me as badly as they do her. But I can still Rage, Rage, because there is so much to rage about – icy streets, the usual potholes, roads that hide ice beneath a thin covering of snow, some strange drivers who don’t seem to have bought winter tires. Oh yes, I love them. One came twisting and turning down the same side of the road as me only this morning. Luckily he hit the snow bank before he hit me. But, I ask you, what was he thinking?

So there’s Rage, and Rage Rage, and also Road Rage. Way to go! I think we should call a national rage day and all stay home for 24 hours, just to cool us all down for a bit. Oh dear, that might lead to cabin fever – and that would be an outRage.

Two Poems

1
The Day Before
My Birthday

Warm air.
Cold snow.
Grey ghosts of memory
drift beneath the trees.

If it were fall …
… if the sun were to shine …
rainbows would grace
the spun webs of spiders
clinging to the trees.

If, if, if …

A warm winter day,
or so they say,
snow diminishing,
a wind from the south,
up from Florida,
rain on its way.

My birthday tomorrow.
The temperature to fall
way below the date.

-16C on January 16.

My fate
to be a winter baby,
to never know
what the weather
will be like
on that date.

2
My Birthday

I won’t sit here
with head in hands
fearing the future
or brooding on the past.

Every day I survive
is a bonus now,
each sunrise
a celestial celebration.

I welcome daylight
with open arms and now,
on my birthday,
I will accept
all gifts with joy.

Sunshine floods through me.
It fills me with hope.
Its beacon beams .
A full tide of love
overflows in my heart.

Comment:

Bilbo Baggins gave away presents on his birthday. Today it is my birthday and I have joined with Moo to give away two poems, the first written yesterday, and the second today. Moo painted the picture, as always, and presented it to me for my birthday. A nice gift. Thank you, Moo.

I got some other nice gifts too. In the local superstore I discovered Polvorones. I have never seen them there before. It is a long time since I have seen them here in New Brunswick. So, what a lovey find that was. Tengo polvorones.

I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions. That’s why I never break them. That said, I do intend, and Moo agrees with me, to start posting regularly once more. So hang on to your hats – and let’s see how long that intention lasts.