I wrote this little pair of interrelated verse about four or five weeks ago. I don’t know why I’ve been holding on to them. These are about sadness—Tristitia—and joy—Gaudium. ♥
FIDES
I. Tristitia
There’s a flicker, and it comes with the
expectation that distraction
has come to rescue her from the
mouthy weight of inexorable
confinement, but the horizon’s
lights streak westward, in slow, fixed paths,
delivering no distraction,
just the steely white noise of more
paranoid imaginings.
Within her mind’s demoted eye,
there’s another rote listing why
her cognitions are drowning in
sticky black paint, her faith is smoke-
damaged from fires set by the
Patron Saint of Self-Destruction,
and her sense has left her to chase
the ever vanishing tracks of
failing, falling stars that aim to
become the disparate peace of dust.
II. Gaudium
Dust exists and persists, though, as
a permanent state of wisdom
—accumulative as it is—
and she finds tempers and torrents
are only empowered by
the rains’ tendency to sculpt
the soil into uninvited
monsters. It’s all in the choice, no?
Liberation arrives in a
kiss, as understanding itself,
for the only things she has
to lose are the merciless
irons of expectation.
