It is 4:33 a.m., and with this lockdown disrupting my sleeping patterns, I create stories.
Want to read one?
**The Old Seer**
(A lone voice whispers)
When I was so much younger
I once met a stranger while passing by a white picket fence.
A delicate, beautiful, complicated femme fatale
Who waved and, in time, devoured my every breathing moment
Carefully taking down all those old erected barriers
With gentle, soft fingers
I used to protect myself with
Whenever I felt threatened
And needed a strong defence.
We laughed carefree like young lovers.
Exchanging stories and tales of adulation
Eros would have been jealous of
In the middle of one wild night
We even created a safe white room where we
Could stay
Praying silently whenever we sat alone in our deep thoughts
Of each other watching Angels
To stay forever entombed
In that very white room, as the blushing bride and groom
A place where Father Time even seemed to stand still and watch for
We were so happy
But as time quickly passed, I got older
And my once-strong body got frailer
Voices that have always followed me
Since I was willed into this maze, we all walk
And dare call it a life
Whispered
Let her go
She needs new flesh and blood to make her warm
To feel love for the rest of her life
Don't be cruel and deny her.
Something tangible to fill that deep void
You might leave when you die
Someone to take that suitcase of broken emotions and dreams
You once carried and upon new, strong shoulders
Bear the heavy load
So I listened as I always do
Since they introduced me to her so long ago
Underneath her painted windows
By those unforgettable white picket fences
In these long days of the 21st Century, those voices seem to get louder as I get older.
Whispers that have always guided and protected me
Now sung
She needs freedom to fly from this white room you've created
They whispered whenever I dreamed
She now uses a seemingly unbreakable chain of longing to stop herself from leaving its penitentiary.
They spoke
A lonely, golden-haired orphan girl, I loved
I tried to release them back into the real world
For I couldn't be her own West Side Story's
Tony
For in time, I knew I too would soon die
And she
Still standing alone
Would have to pick up that heavy suitcase again
So as I stand here, where I always go
At ten past midnight in the deep recesses
In my mind, after a sip of mead
I just look up at the twinkling silvery stars across this great blue ocean
Between us and standing under that familiar old
Lampost of forever treasured, beautiful dreams
I can still see her beautiful smile
Dark seductive eyes and dressed in white lace
And hope she forgives me and knows this
I will always feel her deep love and always taste that thing
I know I will, in quiet moments, miss
When that date comes, I know I must soon keep with my friend the Lord
And it's my time to die
That soft, invisible kiss I once shared with my teacher
Lost in precious moments in the Heartbreak Hotel
As we played love-struck under the goddess of love
Mesmerizing spell
It's been a while since we last spoke
I knew she would experience hurt and painful emotions
Would pour out of every inch of her skin
Is this the price
I must now carry in trembling hands and tear-filled eyes
When before the Lord I kneel, asking for forgiveness
When he asks me about my worst mortal sins
Shall I tell him
Setting someone free to be all they can be
As they lay in someone else's arms
To give up love for someone to be happy
Until their time is also due
As I doom myself to wait by the holy river alone
For I know in this new rebirth we can be forever happy
For we are but soul twins
Now, as I sit alone in these early morning lights
Typing and fighting these old, broken emotions
Which always washes over me
I hope she finds someone new soon
To hold her
As I was once told to believe
I was simply sent by God to help her see
And open her soul again
Is that the price of being a seer?
The cost of a broken heart
To see the real truth in all these sad minutes, now we are forever
Emotionally and spiritually apart?
Copyright John Duffy
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