NICEF

Wednesday 4 February, 2015

When things change


That movement in the corner
that was her
weaving her cocoon of forgetfulness
in nondescript white
enshrouding her
till a shaft of light
poked a hole right through
and then another 
and then another.
The cocoon fell apart.
She gazed in wonder
at the surrounding light
and the tears began to flow
because the light had been
the kindness of remembrance
the kindness of a stranger
the kindness she thought she had long lost.

(I recently experienced a week of kindness from various quarters and this is the result)