Standing on a bridge
Water below so peaceful
Watch the reflections
Want to touch them
To live in that peace
Beneath a bridge
Nothing like a good cry to restore peace and balance. Ok, I spent nearly three hours weeping bitterly and utterly miserable in my grief and sorrow. I’m tired now, it can be exhausting to really feel. There is still a dull, lonely ache in my heart. Affection is one of those basic human needs which my life has an almost total lack off. But there is nothing to be done for that at the moment so cherry pie and poetry that’s been sitting dusty since the last millennium will have to be suffice.
The river has long been a source of comfort and sense of connection with God and nature for me. I bought a house by a large canal, unable to afford real river front I went for the closest I could come. It’s dry for the winter now. I could really use the soothing, peaceful water noise. But the worst of the storm is over. It really does work, just to sit and feel and wait it out. Nothing lasts forever and even the strongest of emotions can’t kill. It does help me to write through it, helps unclog the pipes and pin the pain to the paper.
I thought I knew what serenity was. Some dictionary-esque idea of being always calm and cool, of not experiencing tears or anger or pain. No, serenity is also being able to accept uncomfortable emotions and feel them all the way through, to come out the other side peaceful and hopeful. Even the highest, most frightening swinging in the wind bridge has an end.