The Sanctuary Of Tomorrow
By Rumaysa, Stage 4
so gentle it seemed, and if there was a time for peace as soft and light as cotton ‘twas now
when the sunlight split the thick dark clouds and time evaporated
but even facing beauty that may not even exist they still held onto hope
this breath of air
before the chilled wind pulled the darkness closer and those
shivering desolate figures drew icy breaths that burned like flickering flames of fire—
like the fire that was slowly but surely approaching them from the west where the storm was gathering, where others agonized, isolated together, chained to their own desires, unable to escape the disaster sure to befall them ere the time passed
and yet they did not realise their encagement,
learning the colourful world through black-and-white lenses
looking past the bars instead of through them
trapped in their plush velvet riches
surrounded by every timeless pleasure
fancy deep purple curtains
suits with shiny cuffs and
“dear get this adjusted” after a month
whilst at their feet lay hopeless exhausted men begging for the charity they needed, not wanted—did not they once be side by side?
for what reason did this madness continue? where were the
blackbirds singing drops of sweet melody quivering in the air
and the thunder hiss waves on soft sand
dappled sunlight through leaves globes of golden hope
lulling drumbeat of rain
time standing still
and
what use was there in remembering what use
oh God what use if down by the stream the fish floating brown mud stink oh it smelled not even the dogs would come near
but as the sunlight stroked their faces one last time it dawned that this may yet be fixed
p a s s e d m o m e n t
could not flee from doubt (monster or simply inherent?)
the tendrils intertwining vines
into their hearts
SQUEEZE and control
sky overcast
who were they kidding?
‘twould always be that beauty was no more than a mask concealing their fear,
that painted clown face with its ghoulish whites and reds
how it jeered as it faded when it wished, that
yelloworangeredpurpleblack
and they watched as they stood
stuck
…
trapped
whilst tiny pinpricks in the dark taunted of what once was and what would never be,
whispers from worlds long faded to warm memories remembered cold those stories of old
and the wail reached them
doom had come.
the soft cotton forgotten as they huddled under rocks like heads
the moss soft hair
not cotton
never cotton again
‘twould never be
(behold the mighty fearcold hug)
and the rain began
soaked
the shards of [hour]glass
continued to fall
streams of sand
swept away by the wind
rivers of deepest red flowed
the earth soaked up thirstily
‘twould always be they who bled
‘twould always be they who lost a battle not yet fought,
who were thought lost and far from home
(but where was home if home was lost?)
‘twould always be they whose shadows never left them
even once the sun sank into fiery oblivion
(to rise once more, always to rise once more and yet here they slept)
they gave all they had gave up gave in give a gift what did it matter
who were they kidding?
‘twas the same
‘twould always be
and years later their sons searching for what once was
see a sea of sunflowers as red as the dawn they were seeking
that at last cast its fingers over them—
and they were there
they were gone
but what did it matter? they were whole once more
they were home.
