I am so pleased to announce that my poem, petals made of love, is now available at MasticadoresUSA. Thank you to Gabriela Marie Milton, and the team at MasticadoresUSA for their continued support, and for publishing this piece.
petals made of love
I sit atop the river delta, wondering about
the scene
it is a
myriad
in-between
the light
casting off
in the distance
playing with the…
I would be honored if you would go here, and read the rest of my poem. Thank you!
Photo by CDD20, Pixabay
locked inside
a container,
of my own making
I struggle to find
the light,
complete absence
thereof,
sets me off with a fright
struggling
to breath,
wondering
if life
is all that it seems
I get quiet,
quiet enough
to hear
the hammering
of my heart,
against
my painful chest
then,
it picks up
speed,
in relation
to the myriad
thoughts
roiling around my head,
faster
than anything
can be said
to have sped
slowing
them down
not possible,
tools escape me,
trapped,
and isolated,
tears well
in my eyes,
and I even,
at that time,
struggle to cry
they
leak instead,
when fullness
overflows
into stations
of another
portended foundation
and,
years later,
I will reflect on
these times,
after learning
has been delivered,
and understanding
is bourgeoning
within my hearts center
holding
these memories
ever so lightly,
abiding in my center
and knowing,
though painful,
these experiences,
were necessary, and
needed,
to live a life as full
as heeded
my feet
feel the grass
beneath me,
and inside, I
smile secretly,
and think
about the next scene
together,
joined forever, like
two lovers,
first met, when
they were young
enough to remember,
the next phase instead
of a memory
of something else,
harkening back
not so gently,
to the first time
you came into view,
and I fled
from
your embrace,
altogether longing,
yet, I just kept running,
thinking too much,
feeling not enough, and
making way on my own
shrill and stuffed
from the voluminous
calamities
that filled my mind,
and are impossible,
at times,
to deny,
and,
never
ever
to rewind,
nor find
lost, and
bleak
as it may seem
on my inner-screen,
I get up again,
let the tears come
as they may, pray,
and ask for
forgiveness each day
life is lived
inside of
you and me,
and when
we need to scream,
it’s all okay, as
the feelings come
whether
we want
them to or not,
and, in fact,
resisting,
only makes them
persist
until we’re grown
working
through them
though?
is another
story
all its own,
filled with hope
and, the glory shown
the darkness
envelops me, I
cannot see, sweat
routs my brow,
my heart skips a beat,
and my legs
begin to twitch,
feverishly
fear encases me
wrapped up,
frozen solid, unable
to move, a tear slides
down my face,
and I
realize,
feeling is something
that’s left me
for the time being
numb,
confused,
withdrawn, and
disengaged
from life, love,
and even
the loss
presenting itself
to me
on a daily basis
waiting, and
wanting to know
why this happens,
not being able
to hold on
any longer
as a momentary
pause ensues,
a gift
is given
understanding
dawns,
mind takes
hold,
heart,
explodes, as
light pours forth
and,
the darkness
once fraught
with fear
and anguish
begins to dance
to a language
all its own
If you’ve not yet checked out Astha’s Anthology, Utmost Feelings, well, you can now order it online. Here’s where you can find it:
Paperback-
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Ebook
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I hear that voice echoing
from the past,
every second, fast, oh,
how long will this last?
When a moment feels like an eternity,
we hold tight,
and try to let go of the fright we feel,
yet at times,
we hold too close to heart,
and it can feel as if we’re falling apart.
Seams coming undone,
once tethered together,
now bursting with imagination and dread
in this very cold weather.
Inside the drama’s milieux,
perspective is hard to find,
as we run after feelings that are a part of another
place and time.
Remember, then,
as thought precedes feeling, and
you know that you are truly dreaming,
watch, listen, and
observe the scene,
instead of entering into it with every
piece of your being.
Perspective can be regained as
we learn more
about ourselves inside the dance, and
begin to master
the waves of our second chance.
One, two, three,
just like that, is how they
are feeling. Come and gone in an instant,
when we slow down and
let go of our resistance.
Be with all that comes your way,
many a wise one
will say. Nay,
love all that comes your way,
because it is part and parcel of the entire play.
Choose wisely then,
my friend, for on your life it doth
depend.
