Raw in it’s honesty, beautiful in it’s vulnerability, this poem by my friend, Marinda Summerton Steyn, cuts right to the heart of the matter. The dragon had been mortally wounded. What will the outcome for the Princess be?

* * * * *

When a castle becomes a dungeon and house never feels like home
When signing and making music
turn to whispers and then turn to thoughts
When a smile never reaches the eyes
Plastered on pale lips
Life with laughter cannot be conceived of
a myth, a fairy tale
When the sound of his vehicle, footsteps and voice fills the very heart with icy fear
There remains a desert in a desolate mind.

When tables are turned will the castle become a safe fortress , a home?
Will we remember how to turn the silence into music, to fill the rooms with dancing?
Will voices remember the pitch,
will arms remember to embrace in love, forget that hugs are for console?

In a moment in one day your freedom can return

But the flame of life is cautious, knowing that at any moment the dragon may awake and reclaim his keep
So slowly we begin to live, we talk loudly
We talk a lot
The piano sweet and THERE, no quick recitals…..new tunes fill the breathable air
The drumming sounds like thunder roaring and rolling wild…released
Strings still soft and quiet will perhaps one day rise in force

While others who saw not the face, encourage, pray for quick awake
I brush the hair and dare to dress
And pray for nothing , except ….
never to be captive again…..

©Marinda Summerton Steyn 2015


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