4/19/12

April 19

In the movie "The Secret Garden"
there is a glorious scene
where
as the camera pans through the great stone manor
and continues curling down a darkened corridor
a thrilling voice is heard.

The notes swirl about my untethered head as I recall
the beauty found within such a shadowed place.

Displaced by that surrounding gloom
by tones turned magical
around the corner we follow
taking in the sight
of fast moving hands
a flour dusted apron
sleeves rolled up
that robust glow
of almost ecstasy within
seeping out through pores
and pixels
through air,
time
and into my ears, eyes, mind, heart
and to me here
again,
recalling.

Greensleeves will never
     could never
be the same.
That cook
eyes closed
resides in the home of my heart
singing
while baking and creating for souls she did not make.
Just a job for her,
     a life, yes,
but a world to me.
and inside my mind
my heart sings
while I cook for those I do and did bear
infusing my actions
with what can not be expressed
in tones
alone.

No comments:

Post a Comment