“The world is ending, and I am having the time of my life!”
Dancing in circles, she looks so dashingly bright.
The story goes just as follows:
A little girl makes it out of the place that feels way too shallow and hollow.
Midnight escape and the fields are on fire,
Horizons ablaze, the clock strikes by the same hour:
“If there’s not too much left, should I just drown in your gaze?
Keep myself tucked within your dashing face?”
Those are the whispers one hears in the corridors of a quiet palace;
Built from the dreams of royal escorts and sisterly malice.
Carriage of pumpkin, spice and spells,
Arrives on the dot to save a woman, like no one else.
“Time, time, time, I fear thee more than myself!
My archnemesis strikes like that, four times again.”
It’s midnight, Cinderella – church bells are ringing.
Meanwhile, her shoes on the stairs, so quietly clinking.
So what if she never left the ball at all? What if the magic was actually
Never the whole point?
Is it not oneself that gives the spark to what is within…?
Speaking from the heart, it’s impossible to rein it all in.
There is no way to deserve goodness or enjoyment;
You do not have to weep to become good,
Or crawl on your knees just to appear all-important.
“But perhaps if I did, could I just keep all this for a bit longer?”
Oh, Cinderella, how I wish it were possible to live with the same fairytale wonder.
(after Mary Oliver, “The Wild Geese”)
Photo credits: Birthday in late June 2025, Gineitiškės. Personal archive.
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