PAINTING THE RAIN

I left my assortment of pens and markers in the rain again. Now everything I write and touch is softer, more fluid, more beautiful, less defined.

 

The things I painstakingly named of late have already become something else—defying porous borders: the wrought iron fences, brick and stone ones in the garden, the chain-linked fence the dog dug himself out under during the fireworks.

 

No, the things and objects and ideas in arrangement set to wind and bird music—will not still as I try to paint them this morning—fill all the gaping holes that stretched and grew in the night with ink, fastidious name-defying colors I mixed before my coffee, before both feet landed back in this world.

 

I could cry in my coffee, but what would that do? Merely dilute it with water and salt from which we crystallized.

 

When I am better and my body aches less excruciatingly, when I am better at everything—a better painter, a better cellist, a better citizen, a better daughter, a better gardener, a better friend, a better human—I shall pilgrimage to the sea

 

and sing of all my wanderings—free the instruments of my destruction in the dustbin nearest the dunes and their sharpest blades of silver-green, silver-blue, blue-green.

 

If you happen to see me there in the earliest morning hours of magical sunlight, be very very quiet. I have become quite skittish like the dog as if I, too, have been left outside in the rain too long.

 

 

 

 

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6 Responses to PAINTING THE RAIN

  1. Myke Todd says:

    The voices you are leery of,
    most likely are all your own.
    Give them a dose of silence,
    in short order, they’ll be gone.
    Just be sure from all angles,
    you really want to be alone.
    It may be in your interests,
    with dog and voices,
    toss them a bone.

    • Krysia Jopek says:

      too tired to riff you haha

      maybe tomorrow!

      Can you send me a link to what you posted again so I an riff you there, too?

      Thank you, as always, for reading, commenting, and supporting my creative work xoxox

  2. Ron says:

    A lovely piece,Krysia. I will simply enjoy it for what it is and skip the analysisFavorite part is the opening lines .

    I left my assortment of pens and markers in the rain again. Now everything I write and touch is softer, more fluid, more beautiful, less defined.

    • Krysia Jopek says:

      Thank you, Ron!

      I love the opening lines [stanza] also. I can’t believe how much I wrote this summer in my Poetry Garden in the morning every day before coffee. I don’t even remember some of them because there were so many. I was drinking like a gallon of black-peach-sage iced tea a day to defy fatigue. I feel blessed. For so much. For poetry, friends, readers, and so much more.

      thank you again for your long friendship bound in words
      Krysia

  3. David B says:

    Evocative. So many images flash before my eyes.

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