Year of Yin: rest in peace

August sits as the wick of a candle poised over the table edge and what remains of a heartily devoured meal. Casting warm golden shadows across the silent hall where laughter used to ring. A steady drip of wax mounting over the forgotten hours since we playfully crept up to bed careless bits of mirth strewn about the floor. Half a glass of wine, and whip cream that has fallen remain unperturbed by their suspended fate. No breath of fresh air to disturb this waxing morn, the soft grey light already collecting on the dust of the picture window. Four in the morning and the house echoes in stillness, but the little wick burns on into its final hour. My dreams are spent, slumber deadens the sense once ensnared so sweetly. Released into dreams better left unknown. No sign of hesitancy as the flame begins to flicker and start at the end of its rope. A black reminder in the morning light. Even in peaceful times, all good things must come to an end. Silence envelops us.

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s