Resilience

Purpose –
much coveted
despair-driven –
has returned.

Energy –
motivation
to proceed –
building

Willingness –
once vibrant
now constrained –
resists.

Chasms –
loss created
unparalleled –
require bridges.

Purpose –
discovery born
enthusiastic –
persists.

(Resilience first appeared here in October, 2018.  I submit a slightly revised edition here for Ragtag Community’s daily prompt: resilience.)

I Grow Roses

I grow roses to remember
a beloved grandmother
the dreams of innocence
the blush of summer love

I grow roses to believe
that life has purpose
and time has no end
and love defies boundaries.

I grow roses to understand
that beauty and pain coexist
and life is about cycles
and simple things have great value.

(Linking up with Eugi’s Causerie, prompt: blush.  Image from personal collection.)

Brain on Fire

My mind is ablaze –
ideas churning
vying for recognition –

greed is ego’s bane
hogs the spotlight
but other thoughts stir

gentler, more insightful –
will remain in shadow
till a quorum empowers
artful expression.

(This poem is from Twitter @Vjknutson.  I’m linking it up with Reena’s Exploration challenge which is the featured image.  Photo credit:  Daniel Salmieri.)

Bystander

Dare I confess
the hollowness
of my heart

How emptiness
echoes in its chambers
How lost I feel inside

This is no sanctity
no secure refuge
my withdrawal is a sham

I stand by, observe –
circles entwine, embrace –
recognize the power of love

Practice the words
extend warmth
and retreat, before

connection ignites
convinced as I am
that the vacancy is merited.

(Image from personal collection.)

The Last Book

What will be written
in the aftermath –
so much owing,
so little justification.

Upended anxiety –
regal anticipations
shattered by cancer –
yes, life is a teacher

No matter,
if we survive –
but where to go then
Earth’s riches exploited

Commitments crumbled –
confess we have Father issues
but it’s time to emerge,
step forward, take the lead

What follows contentment
battled, passive crosses borne,
paths with no clear direction,
doubt as ante?

Hubs are shattered –
we are spokes with no centre –
pray the last book written
is reconstructive.

(Inspired by a dream, and combined with the prompt from Reena’s Exploration: The Last Book on Planet Earth.  Image from personal collection.)

Victim

Can’t take responsibility
for what gets laundered here
my vehicle has no steering wheel

I am merely seeking understanding –
comfort, like support shoes  –
and I get flack, indifference
slapping me in the face.

Why did I put myself in this position –
revert back to old ways, think
I was destined for anything
but penniless devotion –

should have been a nun.

(Image from personal collection.)

The Pawn

Of course she is away
caught in the schism
of her parents’ divorce
played like a pawn

She is emotionally numb
incapable of articulating
wants and desires – broken
though no one notices.

(Poem originally appeared on Twitter.  Visit me @Vjknutson.  Image from personal collection.)