Today the word is barricade. The chains will groan and gripe as the links grind against one another, but the bridge will still rise and leave behind a gaping unassailable leap. Under the no-longer-there- road, the fish will swim to the cool shadow and find it gone, moving on, back to the edges and the reed banks further along. Perhaps those eyeing up our castle will now not relish a siege and also pass on through. We are safe inside, and the stores are plentiful. But later, when the winter comes, and the moat freezes, shall we find comfort in these dark stones? Shall our father give us bread instead? Mightn’t we still venture out into the daylight atop the towers, blinking and ready for renewal? Hope leaves its seeds everywhere, and life grows through cracks in rock. Light will always be waiting to return, and when we have had our fill of self and solitude, the old oak timbers may crash back down, and the world become once more our cloister.
© Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2016
Photo from Pixabay
N.B. Once a week I will be returning to The Landscape of Love as a break from the Veil of Tears which can be quite a tough read (and write!) And hopefully to help keep my poetic prose flowing.