adversity · aging · change · Family · poetry · spirituality · writing

Death Reveals Inadequacy

Mother is fearful,
time slipping through her fingers,
loneliness enveloping her.

I hold space for her in my thoughts,
my heart aching in beat with hers.

Guilt tosses me up and down –
inadequacy knows no bests.

 

adversity · culture · poetry · writing

Wrong Place

Temporarily encamped
in enemy territory,
a confidante, observer,
practicing external camouflage –
a dangerous game.

Am witness to hatred –
the deep-seated, ‘us’ vs ‘them’
mentality that divides –
vulnerability on high –
I am clearly ‘other’ –

a tourist trapped,
powerless to affect change,
in need of escape.

adversity · health · ME/ CFS · poetry · writing

Dare I Hope?

Hope glitters
like rays of golden
sunlight piercing
the thick overgrowth
of this life.

Dare I respond,
or is this merely
the sharp deflection
of light on tinfoil
meant to keep
scavengers away?

(Dare I Hope? first appeared three years ago, when the four walls of my bedroom and the mattress I laid upon defined my life.  I have polished it a bit here for my weekly challenge which is “anniversary”.  Looking back to those times, I am able to acknowledge progress and affirm that the hope I was feeling had validity. Featured image is from personal collection.)

adversity · creativity · life · mental-health · poetry · recovery

Closed Off

I search for sustenance
with indifference –
have difficulty navigating
the aisles of available options.

Divorced from former dreams,
I hunger for renewed inspiration,
encounter only loss and confusion.

Goddess advises, and I,
ear-closed irritated,
hear only assertions
of inadequacy.

I exit possibility,
have lost the vessel
that once propelled me.

(Linking up to Reena’s Exploration Challenge #70)

adversity · aging · creativity · disability · poetry · writing

Soul Stalker

Downy blankets of white softly settle,
Nature gratefully submitting to slumber
as the Earth bids a seasonal adieu.

Inside, my body craving hibernation,
curls into layered bedding, draws shades
against the snowy scene, wills respite.

My soul, a cat, lulled by the miracle
stretches wide paws, arches, ready
to discover some mystic wilderness.

She is primordial, a snow leopard,
camouflaged, elusive, a silent stalker
instinctively hungry for nourishment.

Weakened, I yield, certain she will prey
on this near lifeless flesh, leaving me
bloodless, hide-less:  a mere carcass.

Then I shall lay down in the frigid warmth
of winter’s illusion and surrender rotting
self to the Earth’s core; pray for rebirth.

(Soul Stalker first appeared here in January of 2016.  I am submitting it for dVerse’s prompt: Confessional poetry, hosted by HA.)