Melancholy

Please forgive me as I forgive myself. It has now been over five weeks since I have last posted a blog. Who knew that life could get so busy sometimes!? Within this month of "Digital Silence" my life as been a "Social Bustle!" I had my 21st birthday, celebrated a romantic holiday, and got engaged to the love of my life: Brooklynn Turnbow.

I guess you could say, the energetic tendencies of those events are not in the least bit "melancholy," so why the dismal title? Well, a good poet does not only write the same genre in succession, for that would be repetitious and boring. So, in attempt to get myself back into the habit of a hobby I truly love, yet have "put on the back burner," I now present to you one of my most meaningful poems (What a way to say "I'm back!" huh?): "Melancholy"

In an act of making amends with my love of this blog, I'd like to catch up and post one every day this week until the final one this Friday, and I will try, harder than ever, to again give you posts weekly.

As you read this poem, like I have done once in the past, I HIGHLY recommend listening to a song in the background. It is titled: "Threnody" by Goldmund. Feel free to even keep listening as I describe the significance of this poem.

"Melancholy"

I perch in somber delicate,

Taken by the breeze;

Forgotten by all—accept it,

In melancholy ease.

As I ponder on the misty drear

That lingers ever so,

I pause and catch the dismal mirror:

Forgetting where to go.

So, here this vessel—t’is but vexed—

High chamber also low,

The limbs: confused, the look: perplexed,

Ambition: naught—in woe.

Yet in this gloom, a single ray

Grants its partial visage

And pins my soul, as if to say:

“The ache is but an image.”

“Choose you, friend, to see it so,

Breathe with breathless wonder;

Lift thy head—a homeward tow—

And shift. No longer wander!”

I can’t resist, nor counter feel.

The beam? It somehow knew me.

And set me right, a newfound zeal,

Bygone the melancholy.

-Cale Kenneth Montoya (02/20/24)

There is a common occurrence in society pertaining to social media in which people only show the “good parts” of their life whenever they post for friends to see. This can be envisioned when thinking about how a friend you know may have once posted about how much fun they had on their “trip around the world.” All you see is their smiling face and energetic interactions to events, locations, and certain cultures. Nearly never, though, do you see any of the pictures showing their flat tires, sea-sick barf puddles, verbal fights, and tears shed that indubitably came and went throughout this so-called “trip of a lifetime.” 

This strange occurrence creates quite the tension in the media because we, as the audience, aren’t receiving the full truth and are thus living deceived and deprived of truth. In an effort to combat such an ugly stigma, this poem embodies the “flat tires, barf puddles, verbal fights, and tears shed.”

Truth is, life is messy. You may never know it but among all the people you interact with daily, some of them may be struggling unbeknownst to you, even family! And you know what? They need a beam of light, a beacon, a hope. Are you one who shares that light who who needs it right now? Either way, heed the messages behind this week's passage. You are never alone. NEVER. Remember the poem: "To You, Who Are Forgotten?" (if not, go read it) The way you feel is almost always valid, but that doesn't mean that it is always lasting.

As one of my heroes in life once stated:

"You still got some fight left in you! So get up, dust off, reload, recalibrate, and re-engage. Go out on the attack!" -Jocko Willink.

-Cale Montoya