Dec 14

Cloud medicine

When the clouds drift across you,
heavy with rain and pain and somehow still empty,
drink maple and warm milk
while wrapped in the soft brown of your grandmother’s blanket.
She made it while you screamed your way into the world,
made it to comfort your newborn body
in this blinding harshness.

Let your hair be smoothed back from your face with gentle fingers.
Let yourself cry.
Listen to the sad songs
while you dig out the last pieces of chocolate 
from the gold foil wrappers on the top shelf of the cupboard.
Leave responsibility in an envelope addressed for tomorrow,
and let yourself wallow in every ounce of love you can find.

Like the sun, clouds come and go. 
Sometimes, you must bear the burden as best you can.
Sometimes, you must wear the raincoat and let it pass you by.
For a time, you can turn inwards, and give it all to yourself.

For a time.

For a time, but soon that time has passed,
and the forecast told you there would be sunshine today,
a warm breeze to soften the horizon,

And soon all the petals
of the tissue box have been left crumpled on the floor,
and you have licked maple from the spoon 
until all you taste is a metallic tang on your tongue.

Your lungs have heaved 
and twisted
and breathed while you closed your eyes and felt that air from your feet to your fingertips,
and you have leached all the love from the hearts that surround you.

You’ve been given all that you should need,
and it is time for your mind to clear,
to remember how to speak kindly,
and fit equations together with a clever word,
time for your eyes to remember how to smile along with your lips.

Cast off the blanket,
though the clouds are still there,
wash the mug and pile the petals and give back everything you took.

All you have to do is pretend it was enough.

But my beautiful,
my love,
there is no timeline
for closing the cuts that come from the inside,
or from knives you never saw.
Maple and affection
are not a prescription for pain.

Sometimes, the clouds decide to stay,
and like you,
they do not need a reason
to exist.

Be gentle with yourself.
Please be gentle.
About the Author: QueenofDawn
"I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say." -Flannery O'Connor