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.
