Melancholy and the Mountain
Aimlessly I walked mostly numb partly tearful.
Not knowing where I was heading til I met a juncture.
Then I just went with the flow.
Upon footpath along high trafficked road I strolled.
Awkwardly as if only recently obtaining this clunky suit (body)
Each step not fluid had to be purposely placed.
I pondered at this oddity which afflicted me as I continued.
Along the straight plateau I could see furthest ranges usually.
Not today they were invisible beneath layers of heavy cloud.
I sympathised with them I understood just how they felt.
The sun shone warm upon me I breathed deep.
Trying to inhale the joy in that light, not quite getting there.
Back to watching my footfall, still urked by its difficulty.
I started hearing the bird song, shrill and perfect from gnarled boughs.
It touched my heart, gifting a moments release and a smile.
Then returned the whats, the whys and the horrid why nots.
Numb again wrapping itself about my heart.
I breathed in colours, a single purple daisy the colour of my shirt.
That daisy stood alone, ‘neath a scrubby bush amongst the grassy weed.
Vibrant and so brilliant, I smiled and sent gratitude, admiration.
I was constantly reminded of a beauty I have and this bought joy and sadness.
But the joy so deep, had me locked in even before the numb choked me.
I gave thanks and was rewarded with the beauty of the wild ornamental grass.
The gnarled willow with its symbiotic relationships it supported so proud.
Honey bees buzzed around the flowers of the blue grey green of gum.
A truck sat with lights on unattended.
I smiled at this and how some things never change.
I noted the local gambling spot was free of cars, the absence surprised me.
I smiled and took in the colours of the traffic the sounds and the people about.
People in their cars, on the bus, on a bench having a smoke sharing a laugh.
The walking, working, the coughing and spluttering behind me, I cringed and shook.
I saw looks of possible recognition, smiled and waved at courteous drivers.
Stopping to let me cross the road, not acknowledging me though.
My mood was lifting and I was releasing more and more hopelessness.
Releasing stagnant despair, my step was more natural, almost a glide.
I still didn’t know where I was going I just kept on.
People dressed down dressed up and for no particular season.
I came to stairs that’d take me to a lookout point so up I did go.
Looking out to the eastern ranges, they were felt close enough to touch.
Then to the south, over the shopping village into suburbia.
Two stood on rooftop, beyond hung the grey clouds low.
The south west mountains felt a long way off, but was nice to extend my view.
I noticed the naked trees bore fruit at the end of their limbs, making a stunning canopy above me.
In contrast boxed hedging and camellia bushes mingled in the ménage.
I caressed the rough bark of naked trees, the soft petal and shiny leaf of camellia shrub.
I descended back to the land of where one must dwell, reluctantly.
Paying attention to the colours leaves webs raindrops and the sounds.
Birds chirping, winged flight, people nattering, and traffic squeaking, roaring.
I breathed it all in and it felt good, now was always good, if I could find it.
Nearing a possible destination new plantings of rusted reds vibrant oranges.
Of yellows so cheery and bright my spirit soared in delight at this sight, I was thankful.
One elder passed with an impressed stare at the beauty so new to me.
I entered the library small but welcoming with that characteristic murmur.
Happy children were in this place not so happy parents were to, I didn’t understand.
Not knowing what I was wanting I browsed, paid my bill and left with many a story book.
Back on the street I walked through the streets the stairs took me from previously.
I saw a beautiful golden retriever at his masters feet he saw me, we didn’t get to meet.
Some faces were grim others non-descript, I flipped open my borrowed book and read.
My step free and way seemingly clear to avoid mishap, interesting I thought.
I returned on the same path I ventured in on and I noticed the mountains now stood clear.
The cloud still low had moved further away showing the stark contrast of black range on white sky.
I smiled and felt warm inside, the sun still shone the traffic still ran the birds still sang.
So as I walked and reclaimed some sense of self and journey many questions asked.
Only one seemed answered, to write, that was it, to write from my mind or other.
I am not sure of either to answer with certainty, as I know not what I’m meant to write.
But I have started with this, though I have inflicted my words upon many already.