I open the lid
and my breath speeds ragged,
seas stormed by discontent. So many
pieces – why so many pieces? – and
why so many shades of blue? No one needs
that much sky, I think as I start to sort.
Everyone knows you find the edge pieces first
and build in, first the skin and then the heart,
but I can’t find them all in the tangle
of chaos heaped discordant, their absence loud
in the landscape.
The box boasts Italian villas, a Mediterranean
masterpiece of idyllic days. It hurts, this beauty. It
scorns the doctors, scorns those tired
eyes which peer over masks to discern who
of the twenty will benefit
most from the single ventilator that can be
The bits of colour on my table
are lost in that steady rush of feet and again I wonder,
why so much sky? My hands tremble
and I lose hope – I cannot make this
Tears brim and wash images clean.
I blink. Is that
a pattern in the stones, a barely perceptible
shift from dark to light just there, in
the bottom left corner? Pieces find shelter in
limestone. A new thought forms in
the shadows –
perhaps this much sky is necessary to breathe
in a world full of rocks.
Perhaps my eyes are too small,
too human to see the bigger picture;
I step back and
close them in prayer
and my lungs are filled with blue. I breathe,
in and out, slow and big; I hear
what the jigsaw has to say in the silence.
The construction of a life
is always messy; a chaos of constant
attention to details that
puzzle and elude. There will always be too many
pieces, and so much awful sky – but the blue
is meant to be inhaled deep in faith,
exhaled in mystical prayer over Italian villas
while eyes remain fixed on the box lid. I need to memorize
the villas in all their glory: they will be beautiful
again after the ventilators forget how to
I am alone in the quiet. I search;
there, a smudge of the right kind of blue – bright,
not muted or mixed with gray or green. I smile
and set the piece into place,
a prayer in itself. Now I can breathe;
I work steadily from the edge in,
first the skin and then the heart.
What a lovely post
What a lovely post
This a wonderful, Melody. Very slowly the picture comes into focus. Keep searching. Keep working. It will all be clear and beautiful.
Thank you, Heidi! I’ve been very encouraged thinking that God is not in a rush to finish my picture, like I tend to be. How have you been keeping?
It’s been years since I’ve last posted here, but am thinking of writing, again. I am caught in this time of turmoil – so many voices, such anger and pain and frustration, yet the sky is blue, and the blush of spring has touched the land yet again with color and life. Thank you for continuing the journey on…with thoughtfulness and humility and hope.
Ah, I am sorry to hear that life has been challenging for you. It does help to process through writing! I would encourage you to write again. It helps us process! All the best to you!
so true, and blessings to you in your journey