As the weather man had predicted showers for today, when the early morning appeared to be fine, I quickly donned my denim blouson and headed to the postbox, important letter clutched in hand.
Appearances, as we all know, can be deceptive - as was this one. An extremely delicate misty-rain tickled the skin of my hands and face, like fairy footsteps dancing. It was soothing and not unpleasant, as it remained but a merest whisper of dampness.
In the quiet hush of a day not yet awake, I suddenly heard the dull rhythm of clunky shoes closing in on me from behind. I realised at this point, that my own Birkenstock sandals had created no noise.
So began a short meditation, or musing, on the matter, as I recognised the advent of my poetry Muse. She sent me straight to the keyboard once I got home, and this was the result...
A Silent Place
My feet walk silently through the day,
soft-stepping over cracks and flaws.
The pavement slabs, dusty and grey.
make no echo as my sandals fall.
No sign remains to show I passed this way,
or even that my life's been lived at all.
"No sign remains to show I passed this way,
ReplyDeleteor even that my life's been lived at all."
Very nice. Something, I think, many will relate to.
Your poems will live on long after you, Jinksy. And what about the recipient of the letter - he or she will know that you passed that way. Like to think of you in your blouson and Birkenstocks whizzing down the road in the rain. I bet you felt really good when you got back home!
ReplyDeleteAs Weaver says Penny, your poetry will serve as a reminder of you. It's nice to leave creative memories behind when we have gone. - Dave
ReplyDeleteBeautiful sentiment, Jinksy, but totally untrue! There are 183 reasons why up above!
ReplyDeleteSometimes our steps don't leave a trace do they? :)
ReplyDeletethat is why i still play in the mud...leaving deeper prints...smiles. on the other side, metaphorically, to live a life without leaving a print would be such a lonely life...ad another view would be that many a time we do not know the lives we have touched, so...
ReplyDeleteyour sandals may seem quiet - but your writing can be heard…i even hear it over here in germany…clack - clack - clack….
ReplyDeletewonderful jinksy!
Dear Pen,
ReplyDeletethat is really beautiful, thank you!
I believe in the Dao, (won't bore you with explanations), better to give a "visual + acoustical icon turn"(hehe) by a rough translation of a haiku (of course without the right form) from the great Matsuo Basho. He depicted the eight beauties of Biwa in one haiku: "Seven of them are hidden by mist/ but listen: Mii's bell is ringing!"
So - I don't believe that one doesn't hear the beautiful chime of words of a poet - even when that poet can meet dear Hemingway personally (?), quoting his famous title "For Whom the Bell Tolls".
Lovely Jinksy ... it is sobering, yet wise, to realize how insignificant - in the grand scheme of things - our footprints are. But, if we can leave behind one great poem ...
ReplyDeleteI believe you have left prints around the world, Jinksy, especially in people's hearts and minds!
ReplyDeleteI have times that I felt that way. You have such a gift of putting those thought and feelings into words. I believe we leave a print on everyone we meet, even in cyberspace, and they on us. Wonderful job.
ReplyDeleteQMM
A forensic scientist would know ;-)
ReplyDeleteI know, too; and it's way too late to think for your passing here to remain a secret.
ReplyDeleteAh, but you posted a letter. There's your proof.
ReplyDeleteand how many people were observing you from behind their lace curtains? We are never truly alone, you know. Perhaps a whiff of your perfume remains in the air?
ReplyDeleteLoved your poem and the sentiment.
Blessings, Star
I love the description of the rain in your intro as "fairy footsteps dancing."
ReplyDeleteYour poem is lovely: peaceful and pleasant and slightly morose all at once.
Great depth of feeling there. I, too, wonder what I'll leave behind for others to remember me by.
ReplyDeleteA nice mood to that little poem with a very pensive and perhaps disturbing reflection at the end.
ReplyDeleteJinksy
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and quite solemn!
Pam
Ah, Jinksy in reflective and lyrical mode. A lovely little poem.
ReplyDeleteI also liked the Magpie, glad you didn't electrocute yourself, how else would I get an almost free delivery of poetic gems.
Something we all wonder my friend, love your description of the soft rain.......:-)Hugs
ReplyDeleteI much prefer those who tread softly and don't disturb :-)
ReplyDeleteI was immediately put in mind of Keats: "Here lies one whose name was writ in water."
ReplyDeleteLovely poem, jinksy.
8 More words?
ReplyDeleteYou couldn't come up with 8 more words?
This isn't Flash 47!!!
8 Shillings.........
"No sign remains . . ."
ReplyDeleteDBS! What about your poems . . . ?
Ahh, no sign except that "important letter."
ReplyDelete