At the Hearth

Joy R. Wilson Parrish Poem Kubili

Life: messy and divergent,
an off- key clanging of bells.
Rough fingers left imprints on my ability to see,
my world was seen through smudged lenses, perpetually askew and
viewed askance,
I waited for the next shoe to fall.

But now
with honeyed light pouring in on these scarred hard wood floors, the beauty of other scars
is highlighted in raised relief-
Deaths, loves lost or leaving, remembrances and longings;
the hedgerows of a long-ago life.
Here, in this moment, solitude rests
and with this day’s glow falling on to these newly mown fields
a new paradigm emerges:

Forgiveness and compassion bubble up from the dented kettle
and there is a stillness
between each holy breath.

Peace has slipped in quietly to take her place at the window, whispering a sweet
Hallelujah in dulcet tones
and there is a clementine warming on the table
and columbine by the stair.

Joy R. Wilson Parrish © 2018

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