Tag: Sun

I had forgotten

I had forgotten what it felt like
To just enjoy a sunny day,
Amidst the tumultuous events that
Capture me in their claustrophobic cage.
To truly feel the rays of sunlight
Caress my skin and make me whole,
To forget all the endless worries
Which I’d otherwise have to endure.

I had forgotten: teenage freedom…
Those days when I lived in the now,
Without many fears of the future,
Of who I am, if I’m endowed
With enough strength to persevere,
With patience or humility,
Of what will come in the next two years,
Of how much I will change… Oh, dear…

I had forgotten. It feels amazing
To simply have a moment like this.
A peaceful afternoon with sunshine
To remind me of such rare a bliss…
So, here I am, bathing in sunlight
At twenty-two. Nostalgia, peace…
Well, what do you know? Embracing this, I
Forget the depths of the abyss…

– Patricia

Wishing Well

The little girl was sent for water,
To fetch some from the village well.
Skipping away on dusty, dry roads,
The jug she carried in her hand.

The summer sun—burning like fire—
Prolonged the never-ending drought,
As fields of golden corn desired
The missing rain, the stormy clouds.

Joyful arrived the little girl, then,
Looking around for signs of life:
Driven away by reigning heatwaves,
All others sought shadow, not light.

As thirsty crickets ceased their chirping,
The little girl rejoiced in peace.
She gazed into the well—so quiet—
And then began to sing her wish.

“I’m wishing,” sang she as she smiled,
“I’m wishing,” came the echo back,
And all the birds that heard her singing
Came closer, chirping with delight.

And so came she each day, excited
To make her wish and to rejoice
In all the magic which the village,
The air, the nature offered her.

The cool, deep well kept all her secrets,
Singing them back only to her.
The sun governed deserted dirt roads—
Her wishes belonged to the well.

– Patricia

Chasing the Sun

We chased the autumn sun we knew,
Wishing that we could start anew.
But nightfall came, gone was the light;
Hard as we’d tried, we’d lost the fight.

We wanted warmth, unending love,
Yet there we were; the pure dove
Had turned into a raven—dark,
With claws we could not disregard.

It was the sunset of our bliss,
Not just a passing, short eclipse.
Our youth—no more, our strength—long gone,
Only the wind would hear our cries.

We’d had it all—or so it seemed;
The strength, the beauty, youth—all myths.
Our souls were all that we still had,
But soon enough: absorbed by dark.

We chased our final ray of hope,
As it was all we’d ever sought.
We thought we’d grasp just one more day,
Yet there we were: no more than clay.

We stopped in place and looked around,
Thus, understanding we were bound
To reach this day: our end had come.
In pilgrim winds, we came undone…

– Patricia