You Heard a Rumor

You were naive once [or perhaps delusional] thinking tomorrow was today was yesterday, the only difference an inconsequentially subtle blush. But

Weren’t

we

all?

Myths have been shattered, truths exposed. Linearity was never real, as evidenced by this collective stepping-back.

Structure and order
So perfectly plotted out?
Life is no haiku.

There once was a boy from the earth
Whose only mission since birth
Was embracing change
Which others found strange
But helped him define his self-worth

Poetry: both lie and truth.

You busy yourself watching winter bleed into spring, the only way seasons know how to change on the Great Plains: two competing armies battling for dominance. Today’s victory (progress measured in inches, always) followed by tomorrow’s defeat. Tuesday’s sunshine is Wednesday’s snow. Attack and retreat.

Too hostile an analogy? Try “the ebb and flow of the tides” on for size instead. Does that feel more comfortable? Good. Be romanced by the moon. It is, after all, stubbornly, indiscriminately, aimlessly, reassuringly predictable.

You heard a rumor of pasqueflowers…

It felt too good to be true. Too soon. Too incongruous. Too too. But for all your flaws, optimism was always your best trait, so you put on your shoes. Cinched the laces tight. Slogged your way uphill [metaphor for humanity in these troubling times] over, around, and—when it could not be avoided—through mud, hell-bent on a promise. Not even a promise: a mere possibility.

(An unlikely one, at that.)

You inadvertently took a wrong turn, finding yourself on a foreign path far from your destination.

And then, a glimpse of purple and yellow, a stark contrast to the brown undergrowth of the forest floor.

could
it
be…?

wp-1585684472232.jpg

Wordsworth’s heart leapt when he looked up to the sky. Yours lurched by looking down at the ground.

They say a man, lost in the Andean jungle, malaria-stricken, feverish and on the verge of dehydration, stopped to drink from a puddle of bitter-tasting water. Remarkably, his symptoms abated. He had veered off course and ended up slaking his thirst from a pool of water at the base of the quina-quina tree. He accidentally discovered quinine, one of the most powerful anti-malarial drugs in use today.

Eventually, you righted your course. Found the path you were seeking originally. And…

Came up
(     )

Ten minutes earlier, the emptiness, the lack of color, the monochromatic void might have brought you to your knees. But you didn’t despair, did you?

Instead, you rejoiced.

You didn’t need to see a flower there, you realized.

You needed to not see a flower there.

Its absence taught you lessons that day:

  • Even when you find yourself on an unexpected path, the outcome can be beautiful.
  • Hang on to that optimism with every fiber of your being. It hasn’t steered you wrong yet.
  • Tuesday’s sunshine may be Wednesday’s snow, but Wednesday’s snow is Thursday’s sunshine. Bouncing back is the way of the world…

…and bounce back we shall.

19 Comments on “You Heard a Rumor

    • This is my attempt at breaking free from my comfort zone and trying a more artistic post. I took the second-person narrative form, addressing myself as if I were a dispassionate observer, in order to take a non-biased look at my own thoughts and motivations. I also (attempted to) combined various forms of poetry into the writing, and played around with the format to make it more interesting. Overall, the message is intended to be one of hope.

      You like?

      Like

  1. Yes, yes. Your words and photos ring true. Consider me filled with hope and bouncing around, hoping for spring to settle on us here for real.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Structure and order
    So perfectly plotted out?
    Life is no haiku.”

    OMG, I love that, Mark!!! In fact, I loved this whole thing.

    Well done, my friend. WELL done!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Ron! I’m pretty good at (bad) haikus. Bad poetry in general, I suppose. At least I’ve got the meter and structure down.

      Hope your Hump Day has been…umm…humpy?

      Like

  3. I always appreciate your positive outlook, Mark, as I’m not generally Miss Sunshine. Speaking of which, my favorite is the ending, as that’s exactly how the weather has been. What a blessing every day of sun truly is!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: Sanit-eye-zed. – Swinged Cat

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