A month of shadows

I slacked and moped around, whined about being
creatively blocked, and emotionally drained.
June was a month of shadows.

I slumped into the darkness of my thoughts,
hid behind incompetencies;
revelled in the murky background of it,

I did not meditate, I did not water my plants.
I did not whisper soft incantations at my neighbour’s cat;
I slouched in fear, and merged with the black.

Today, I dredged out tangled seaweeds
dripping with brine and dead silver fish fins,
from under this gigantic ship of my life.

I dreamt of dank nights and grey sky,
I forgot that summer was already alive, and kicking.
Kicking me for lurking in the shadows.

Now I’m in a different place.
As the sun glares above me,
It’s 5pm, and time to brew my cardamom tea.

I water my bougainvillea and see my neighbour’s cat,
perched on the balcony railing, twirling her tail.
I whisper incantations and smile at her.

I’m steering my ship ahead,
gliding across this mighty sea,
where shadows come and go as they please.

Photo by Jason Blackeye on Unsplash