Red Haired Rita, Child of Light, and Her Window on the World

RED HAIRED RITA, CHILD OF LIGHT
AND HER WINDOW ON THE WORLD

From that old house of blues & sorrows
Rita, child of light, hair washed in blood
and combed by fire, spends her days
in supplication and reflection from her
sacred window on the world.

Yes, sometimes she casts wishful looks
at the familiar sway of foretold signs,
feeling like an old horse running tired in
the torment of a cloying and angry wind.
These only mock her persistent struggle:

Knowing there’s somewhere else to be,
but not yet time to leave. Still hopeful,
she stays upon her appointed watch.
Rita, child of light, puts an ear to the
window’s ancient glass, listens for signs

of life, for the beating of a human heart
within a framework of human longing
and chronic grief. She remains hopefully
responsive to those weary of the embrace
of another empty day. Rita’s sensitive

fingertips, trained by a resilient, aching
love, search for the touch of archaic swirls
in the flawed glass, tracing the pattern of
all that’s gone before: dreams spun
out of sand, lost in the fury of a violent

world adrift upon this lonely sphere of
stone, a world that all too often resists
true amity and the intercession of fervent
tears. From her window on the world,
Rita can smell the heavy dust

upon its sill, that which came to lie deep
after swirling in the harsh wind of fruitless
rationalization. The residue being the castoff  
folly of fake prophets and false priests
whose promises never came to pass,
                                
all intensified by their resistance to truth.
“Negative capability” sees how reality has
been sifted to almost nothing by cultural
delusions and sieve-like machinations. It
cannot lighten the souls of dispirited men.

The child of light can taste the dust’s sour
smell upon her tongue without putting to
her lips its bitter lie. Wiser than before her
vigil commenced, she’s waited patiently for
what’s truly good and truly real; there will

be no running after illusions. Now as evening
comes, Rita tilts her head and looks in the
mirror, brushing her brilliant made-red hair,
knowing in some better tomorrow
she will be a beautiful bride, prepared for her
        groom in all her splendor.

Reviews

[Eilis]

I feel like I should know who this Rita is. There is something familiar about the character and the pattern of the story, but after all I’m not sure what it is.

It did make me think of the character Sonya from Crime and Punishment, though. The long suffering woman who desires nothing more than to give of herself to improve the lives of others. Always holding on to her salvation and the promise of what’s to come. Willing to suffer much if it serves a purpose.

It’s a loving and sympathetic portrait you’ve offered, Tom. Touching but painful because I want her also to experience happiness or satisfaction before it is too late. It makes me think of the importance of balance, and also of not getting lost in an ideal that is perhaps destructive to the self.

But, from an historic point of view her actions feel appropriate and befitting of the idea of a child of God. So, I’m torn.

I will be thinking about this poem for awhile. There’s a depth that kind of gets under my skin. Excellent work.

[kentuck14]

In my mind Rita (meaning: a child of light) is perfectly willing to suffer for mankind's sake. She does not turn away from the reality of the world's cruel ways and offers of false hope. Instead she has committed herself to watching for opportunities to offer real hope. Rita is not afraid to offer herself as a means of finding a "bridge over troubled waters."
She stands for all who prefer truth over allusion.
I hadn't thought of Sonya, but she certainly would seem to be a Child of light.
Thanks for coming by and commenting on this piece.
T

[barleygirl]

WOW! WOW! And WOW! Your writing lately has been incredibly deep, multi-layered & full of conviction. Sorry I haven't stopped by very much lately . . . I've been flaking . . . & missing out! This poem reminds me of my lifelong goal to remain open to the possibilities even tho so much of the time I feel as jaded as a lichen-covered boulder. I'm usually failing at this balancing act -- it requires the ability to carry on with hope, despite the sensation that everything is going all wrong (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[kentuck14]

Margie,
Yes . . . this is maybe deeper than I usually go. But yes . . . there are those who could only wish the best for fellow human beings . . . who make it a point to offer truth, hope, peace and love. Rita represents all who care deeply. Thanks for sharing . . . and may you find all the best.
T

[jacob erin-cilberto]

no illusions, just positive thinking..she is the light, thinks the light, lives in the light...
knows tomorrow will be better...she almost seemed like a Rapunzel---grooming her long red hair...having the fiery disposition...waiting for her rescuer..
knowing all those men who promise in a vacuum mean little...but the one who will keep his word...is out there.
j.

[kentuck14]

Thanks J for your thoughts on this piece . . . admittedly, a difficult work to comment on.
T