The field of illusions

Published by

Simona Prilogan

22nd Jan 2025

It was evening again,
And I floated alone over the world of thoughts.
One petal… two petals… three petals…
And crazy screwed-up math
Among the tears of helplessness and longing
Locked between imaginary castles.

It was snowing constantly outside,
And the moonlight had taken over the skies,
Reflecting glimmers of magic
In the snow-covered sins of the world.
And I, beyond the curtain,
Feverishly studying the books,
Like a conscientious soldier
In the fight with the enemy.
An enemy waving his smiles
Over the illusions of the child
Unwanted by his father…

And I counted again…
One petal for a smile, two for a hug,
Three for the moment of sharing thoughts…
Four… five… Until all mathematics
Turned into a field of snowdrops,
Stubbornly raising their heads,
From under the cover of the world’s indignity.

A world that grinned at me
more and more coldly and vulgarly
In the questions’ twilights.

I hugged the snowdrops.
Emotionally, instinctively, and thoughtfully.
Until the illusions turned into songs
Not tuned yet,
Perceived only inside the soul…
A tear, …two …and three,
Were dripping, then to clean the eyes of the snowdrops.

I was missing my father.
Unknown, unheard, unmet…

Just missing him…
Until the paths of night
sought their lanterns of love
In the cups of innocence.
But they never found them.
Not yet…
Because another winter,
Two, then three,
Have crossed the field of illusions again.

The snowdrops were coming to life,
Again and again,
From under the blanket of the world’s flaws.
So were the hopes.

Dad never came,
But I stayed here,
beyond the curtain,
like the last soldier
In the defence of candour.

Images Pixabay

One response to “The field of illusions”

The Field of Illusions – Gobblers by Masticadores

11th Feb 2025

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I’m Simona

One day, I tumbled from a tiny star called Dream and landed in a cup of Hope, just beyond the zone of hard work, where daily wishes meet reality.

I’ve always dreamed of visiting Antarctica, though I haven’t made it there yet! Until then, I journey through the intricate landscapes of the human body in my work at the hospital, tracking the unseen stories of cells.

When I step outside my comfort zone, you might find me on a train to Eastbourne, Matlock, or Canterbury, breathing in the fresh air and gathering inspiration. I return with pockets full of poetic ideas, though time rarely lets me write them all down.

London’s endless rainy days often set the stage for my impromptu singing performances on my way to work. I love dancing too, especially the waltz, though I’m a bit too shy to twirl in the rain.

I have a soft spot for pasta, coffee, chocolate, and a good laugh. Politics might elude me, but the human soul does not. And if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s this: Love is our strongest emotion, survival instinct, and essential need.