Thursday, October 3, 2013

unfolded


I stand in the doorway
between my cozy kitchen and
back balcony;
door wide open,
rain pouring,
wind blowing. 

I stand there:
the sound, the smell,
the cool air that is a
rainy autumn afternoon
drifting into the house,
into me.

My arms are open on either side of the
wooden door frame,
not gathered into myself but
completely unfolded.
I stand there,
breathing deeply everything.

I watch as a man runs from the
building behind
my apartment-home to
his car.
He holds paperwork over his head.
And my inside laughs.
“Isn’t the human head
created better to withstand this
onslaught than
paper is?”
The rain lightens and then
stops.
I stand there a moment longer before
retreating back into my abode,
spell broken.
I make my way to my plushy,
slightly-stained couch;
the one so-loved and still-pillowless.
Between writing words I sip from a
hot mug and let the
bitter liquid run over my
tongue. 
Water runs through the
filter in the aquarium
across the room and
it sounds almost like
the noise you hear whenever something
magical happens in an
old movie.
I think of the rain and
how I stood and
how hard and beautiful
it is to be
unfolded.
Because the wind could change and
rain could fly into my face or
thunder could come so strong and
shake my little balcony and
my little being, so small and
feeling-insignificant.
But if I wasn’t open,
I wouldn’t have felt the breeze,
smelled the air,
heard the magic.
If I hadn’t opened the door,
I wouldn’t have known the beauty.
~ Rachel J.

1 comment:

Hannah Barta said...

And if I hadn't opened your post, I wouldn't have known the beauty of it :)