Sheltered

“If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern.” – William Blake

Weathered the would that frames this perception,

once painted with optimism, long worn.


How bright the ideals of youth, now blurred,

colours stripped, raw intention bared –

Life mocks these aged perspectives

old structures fail, light dims with neglect

Still the heart beats solid, hope like putty

sticking to the sills, solidifying half-truths.

How deluded am I, trapped within walls

defined by out of focus panes, separated

From a reality that would behold me

fragmented or whole, and who will ever know

Have not the wherewithal to strip back

old mindsets, repaint the trimmings

Am content to dwell behind screens

of my own making, distorted but secure.

(Image my own)

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VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

55 thoughts on “Sheltered”

  2. I wanted to reread this wonderful poem again before responding. I think this poem is very honest and does not speak of delusion at all. If you can identify a delusion, does not that in and of itself mean that you’ve seen clearly? Keep these poems coming, dear friend. They are an inspiration.

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  4. “

    How deluded am I, trapped within walls

    defined by out of focus panes, separated

    From a reality that would behold me

    fragmented or whole, and who will ever know”

    This is so insightful. We are all trapped

    in some way, and out of focus.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. I find your response poem to be the more inspiring perspective; the other one is merely hope, though well written, of course…as is your own (very well!)

    Liked by 2 people

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