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  • Kate Gold

Lines from Lockdown



Whisht Whisht Don’t be so fast to scramble over the deeper unfolding of this new story. Each erudite quote; considered phrase acting as another handhold, foothold as you strive to reach the pinnacle and plant your flag at the summit! Ah, the relief! Now you understand. You’ve got this covered, under control. It is This. It is That. It is the Other. Named and categorised. Fold it all up and put it neatly into your clean linen drawer. Now you can tell everyone else what all this means. Bravo! You, who are still unravelling the traumas of your childhood from twenty, thirty, forty years ago! What if we stay with the tension? Sit on the edge of an unknowing that scares the hell out of us. It hurts and it’s so uncomfortable. What if we carry our ignorance to the foot of an ancient tree, to the banks of a wild river to a place on an open hill. Cover our naked selves with ashes and as we keen, lean in, lean in, lean in to the fear, the grief and the longing. We don’t have to know what to do. We don’t have to know how to do it. Not yet. Listen to the symphony of this change; the last movement hasn’t even been written yet. The creative act is messy, convoluted, often lengthy. Not tied up with a piece of string and done! Maybe give it all some loving attention before you wrap it up. Listen attentively in this new quiet that is circling our ears. We each have our own insights, inspiration and wisdom. Let’s settle in for the time being. Time that we have been gifted. Allow ourselves to be broken; sometimes surprised, occasionally delighted by what reveals itself from the remains of what once was. Whisht. Whisht. {Whisht – a Scottish and Irish word meaning hush, be quiet! Often used to soothe livestock.}

Photo by David Labno on Unsplash


Lamentation


Stranger, I do not know you. You died alone Isolated from family or friend. Away from those who may have held your hand; shared that final breath with you; whispered words of comfort and love as you fought to let air sustain you. You died alone.


Stranger, I do not know you. I lit this candle in the glow of dusk. I let my tears fall onto the quiet earth. I sang the thousand names of sorrow at your leaving. Called out in lamentation to the stars as they appeared. And prayed that your Beloveds came to meet you in joy and celebration as they brought you Home.




Quiet Rebellion


I have tried to be still

I really have.

I did not rush to the garden

to welcome the seedlings

newly arrived from the Underworld

or chat to the small birds and squirrels.

I did not head for the canvas

to see which colours called to my brush.

I stayed still, in a pose of meditation.

Yet the longer I sat

in stillness and silence,

the more I sensed

the choreography within.

Electrons were dancing like bees round a hive

Atoms were humming, vibrating.

Neural impulses ignored the command

and travelled at ridiculous speeds

wherever they pleased.

The pulse of dark, rich blood

flowed from the chambers of my heart

to the remote destination of my toes.

And my lungs continued

to expand and contract

with a barely perceptible sound

similar to a lover’s sigh.

So, you see, though outwardly

I can be seen to comply,

inside I’m in outright rebellion.


Kate Gold (c) 2020 All rights reserved

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© 2019 Kate Gold

photographic contributor Stardust Photography.uk