As a child, that always ran towards the sun, I look for things that can never be found.
I reach out to ones that have no answer-
I see their smiling love, joyful laughter, like whispers in the wind…
They are fleeting moments; in a locked time piece.
I can hear the distant clock chime, a lonely moment signaling the time is near.
It sits in the upstairs, back room in the old house. It is a forgotten room, when I find it…
The clock sits on a weathered fireplace mantle, a cadence of clicks that are not quite correct.
The dust particles, suspended, touched by the son, dance and fall gently like snow sparkling.
I slowly walk into a room, which has barricaded, secretly, all the lost and forgotten things of the elders and children of winter.
The Energy, of secret words hidden in long ago letters, old photographs, stained…and broken objects;
is a powerful thing-
The energy still remains, waiting, in boxes taped too tight.
The nibbles of mice mouths have long since ceased.
Attic rooms left alone, do not hold any life as we know it; these are the places where the messages are sent and received.
As a child I listen with the purest excitement, as it must be…
I hear the approaching distant train, as I stand on the periphery of silence
in this room-
I know (own) this sound, it has been coming through from a faraway place, for some time.
I feel (deeply), the rumble of heavy metal machine on the rails; stir my bare feet, gently swaying me…
It is a (familiar) presence.
The child inside, recognizes the raw, storm energy to come. The child always feels the power of presence and its place among the living, in our time of knowing…
The restless child knows of the Magic Space; the place between the child of summer, soft and hungry for love-
And the child of winter, a silent watcher, storing all energy and love, cautiously – waiting to open a door that has been closed.
By, _ Tommie Flannery Baskis (c.) 2019 Duskflyer Vision Art & Productions