I am a seeker.
Here and now fills me.
Meanwhile a small part remains empty,
and I ache to find out what I can fit into it.
I want to be filled with life, play, laughter.
Now I’m an ice figure with a careful,
somehow tentatively throbbing heart.
You killed me.
I’m back from the dead.
I hope one day I can let that part of me heal well,
Now it’s a silent scar.
An ice rink with blade marks,
feeble attempts at ice dancing.
No time to reach out my hand to cushion.
Suddenly I’m lost, the wound is open and I hurt someone,
blood flows out of me,
staining the one who came too close.
Ice melts a bit where my blood drips.
Then the ice is hard again.
Some red color gets encapsulated inside the ice,
and I breathe shallow and fast and feel my chest narrow
while I know that inside that ice is potential for life.
It has always been difficult for others to stand firm around me.
I end the dance alone.
Small ice particles sparkle while hurled through the air.
I do a pirouette and wish the fall welcome.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Author: Una Oksavik Oltedal
Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock