Sometimes the path is obvious. Sometimes that’s the one not to take. Sometimes getting lost is the only way to find what’s needed. Sometimes you have to feel dumb. Sometimes you have to live in the fallow. It’s your path. Take it or leave it as you choose.
Author: Irene Gentle
Published work and random snippets, the art and chaos of being alive.
Whisper
I fell alive in the dead season.
When the veil was thinnest I raised my head.
As the leaves fell I stretched my roots.
When the wind whispered I whispered back until we became
a roar
Sightlines
The next day and the next and the next is just like all the others until a kind of normalcy descends, eventually. Now I tell this story and no one believes me. Honestly, I’m not sure I believe myself either, but one thing came from it. I got a telescope. I use it every night.… Continue reading Sightlines
Crash
He drives away again, always again. Me at the window, waving. Good girls wave at windows to show love. Words streak like tears, like ache, like why. Why does he go? Work, she says. To buy you shoes, she says, and complains he doesn’t give her enough to pay for them. Soon she’ll fade into… Continue reading Crash
The Ambassador
The Ambassador They recalled the ambassador last night.By the time it hit the news, he was gone.It’s still always a ‘he’ when it comes to ambassadors here. They don’t trust ‘shes’ yet. They don’t trust him either, now.The ambassador was recalled last night and has not been seen since.Probably a spy, someone says.Probably a poet:… Continue reading The Ambassador