Last week I posted a short story meant to flaunt the rules, and it did so with gusto (the story made more than one reader shudder), so I was looking for something a little less “in your face” to post in order to balance out what I share via this blog. Luckily, as it is Thursday, Three Line Thursday’s weekly challenge went live and with an awesome photo prompt (I hope you’ll take a moment and read through all the fabulous entries — three lines of poetry/prose, thirty words max). The photo depicts an urban courtyard of sorts, a brick wall of windows, with dappled sunlight, reflecting tree leaves, and peeling paint ruffling in the breeze. I was immediately inspired and started working on my entry for this week, which was a modern-day version of the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet (yes, the “O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?” scene).
Her sun-kissed face, held in hand, waits for the unspoiled,
Borne through the urban jungle by a wayward current.
Turning away, I shuffle by. Tis not I, her Romeo.
Still wanting to keep this post a little lighter, I decided I’d share a bit of Romeo and Juliet trivia. Of course, the first piece of trivia my Internet search produced is that Shakespeare’s Juliet is only thirteen, which lassoed me back to that whole creep factor from last week. I suddenly imagined that fresh-faced girl, caught between childhood games and adult responsibilities, still unaware that the entire range of her emotions, her passions, dancing across her face mesmerizes those who take notice of her. Some are enamored by her ability to feel so completely, so unabashedly, without any fears or hesitations. Others are jealous of it. Yet everyone seems determined to school her on why she must learn to control (read: hide) her emotions to protect herself (whether from the pain of disappointment or the nastiness of others). Thirteen seems ridiculously young for a star-crossed lover today (it was legal marrying age in Shakespeare’s time). If such a young girl today professed her love for another, we’d likely pat her on the head and tell her just to wait, that this feeling would pass as well. In other words, ignore your passions and just wait until either they cool down or you get hurt and move on to something else.
Where am I going with this? Honestly, I don’t know. But something bothers me. Perhaps it is the idea that in Elizabethan England, young girls were allowed to have passion but in the “modern-day” it has become almost instinctual to dismiss passion (especially among young girls), equating it with a passing fancy at best and a lack of control at worst. I remember the passions I felt at thirteen, and they stemmed from loving with no fear. Isn’t that something we want to promote instead of hide—or worse, shun?
Ah, Mr. Shakespeare, more than four centuries after penning Romeo and Juliet, your words continue to evoke thoughtful responses and discussions. Well done!
Passion has become a four-letter-word, equated to impulsive emotion, when it’s not, it’s a deep seated need to be wanted and accepted. Who doesn’t want that?! And the three lines was beautiful. Loved it.
Totally! And passion is particularly “bad” for young girls (while young boys are just “getting it out of their system). It’s just…weird. ::shrugs:: Thanks for commenting!
Your three lines were absolutely gorgeous!
I’m torn by what you wrote about Romeo and Juliet. When I first read it (the modernized scholastic magazine version – my school didn’t’ have text books) it seemed absurd to me that these teenagers met, fell in love, married, and died in the course of three days. The absurdity did not stop my tears when I read the real play, though. The old bard has a way with words.
You inspire me.
Aw, what a sweet thing to say, Charlene! Thanks for commenting 🙂