Frozen Moments (c) 2015 Harald Illsinger
FROZEN MOMENTS
It doesn’t matter that your words were shouted
In a peal of sparking anger, anger spewed
In moon-white flames tinged with flicks—
Sapphire blue and poppy red and yellow.
Burning so hot and fast, those thoughts
Consumed themselves and all
Nearby, including what remained
Of hope
For change…
Your change,
Your transformation.
And when the fire burned down,
All that was left were the ashes of your anger.
Small chars of memories…
Frozen moments of who you were…
Once—
Long Ago.
Unable to forgive—even yourself,
You are locked in the ice of stagnation,
The ice of inner struggle.
Frozen fire—
No thaw,
No shift,
No change.
No redemption.
Frozen
Moments
Forever.
Note: Many thanks as always to Harald Illsinger for the use of his exquisite photograph, Frozen Moments (c) 2015. His work always serves as such wonderful and unexpected inspiration.
A Poet in Time 
Just as you said, Mary, it’s extremely difficult to see someone so frozen in hate, of self and others, that you know they can’t change. The power of their hate is physically felt by a person witnessing it. Your great poem described this accurately. The photo fitted right in with it. — Suzanne
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My dear Suzanne, thanks so much for sharing your thoughts. I think that by our age (women of ‘a certain age’), we’ve seen things like this destroy individuals and relationships. It’s a sad and sometimes disheartening fact of life. Still, we always hope. Your comments are always a joy for me to read. Thanks for taking the time to share them with me. xo
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That is so powerful and moving – and the photo is perfect. Thank you.
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Catherine, thank you so much for your comment. Harald’s photos are always a new way of looking at something. I love this one especially. xo
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This is such a painful and powerful poem, Mary! My heart squeezed in my chest and I had to catch a breath after reading this. The ending deeply saddened me. Great Work!
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Thank you, Robin. It was hard to write but harder to witness someone so caught up in his own anger. Sometimes all we can do is hope and pray, but even then there is a helpless feeling. I’m truly honoured by your comments.
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I am so sorry you experienced this with this person. I wish the best for him. xo
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Dawn, I think this kind of thing is part choice on how someone chooses to live their life and deal with others, and sometimes it has to do with mental illness. It’s hard to say since I’m no expert. I’ve seen this in others and most come to terms with things. Your thoughts for him are most appreciated and I, too, wish him peace in his heart. xo
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I’m hoping this is not autobiographical.
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All poems come from the poet. You are a painter. You know that you can see something, process it and paint it with your own style and interpretation. Poets do much the same.
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Many congratulations on this charged and powerful work Mary; the metaphorical imagery is highly compelling, if I may say so. All best wishes, Hariod. ❤
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Hariod, what an honour and delight to get such a comment from you. It was a hard poem to write for (probably) obvious reasons. I am so glad you are following my blog now. Best wishes to you always~Mary
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