Empty.

Empty

These days life’s too full to be empty

But I remember that dark and desolate place

Feeling empty as a crippled tree

Exposed on a windswept moor

Low as an ancient shipwreck

Rusting on the sea-bed

Hollow as a tree-stump crumbling to dust

Solitary as driftwood

Floating aimlessly on a vast ocean

Empty in a crowded room

Not part of the human race

Filled with fake laughter, false gaiety

As they rock to the music

Do they feel empty too?

Now in the twilight

I sip a glass of wine

Enjoying Nature’s wonders

The simple things of life

Watching the sky change to molten gold

Cobalt blue, magenta

Hardly noticed before, the vivid beauty

Of a Red Admiral or Peacock

The flower-filled garden stimulates with potent perfume

A bird sways in the tree tops singing its heart out

Happy to be alive, it survived a harsh winter.

I’m contented now, at ease,

Found peace at last, not in a glass, but naturally.

For time does mend in the end.

I notice my glass is half full

I top it up so it’s never half empty

Lay back and enjoy the blackbird’s song

And the sunset’s dazzling brilliance

Patricia Petres March 2014

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