The Warmth
A dark road, winding.
Where the journey had started.
When - I could not remember
Why - I did not care
How - a question I did not know the answer to.
All I remember is the cold oozing into my core
the foresaken alleys of my heart,
the untouched corners of my body,
the unseen colours of my soul.
Slowly but surely, I kept on walking.
Walking as far as my aching legs got me,
Walking, with a heavy heart and a boggled head.
Walking as my breath got slower,
My voice got deeper,
My throat yearning for that quench.
Marching, I was
Trying to find strength in all the times I’d fallen.
Hoping to see a ray of light,
An act of kindness,
A sliver of hope.
Then, slowly, but all at once,
Out of nowhere but also right there in front of my eyes,
Striking and unexpected like a lightning,
Soft and embracing like the sun at dusk,
I found warmth.
It looked at me with its kind eyes,
Listened to me as I cried,
Embraced all there is to me,
Opened up to me with all its layers,
Told me stories of the big blue skies,
Of the way the sun wriggles through the sleeping hills,
And how it kissed the trees awake.
Wrapped up in the warmth all around me,
I felt naked and I felt seen,
I felt safe and I felt proud,
I felt brand new and I felt free.
I let the warmth take me by the hand,
No longer feeling heavy on the ground, I laid my armour down,
and my weary head on its shoulder.
There I was, fully giving into the warmth I’d sought for so long,
And there we were: open, tender, and one.
22/05/19
London
