My heart is a brook,
joyous as a child’s song,
memories like moss
warm my wintry verges –
luminescence from within.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku challenge:Â brook/ moss; and Eugi’s weekly prompt: luminescent.)
Category: writing
Spiritual Tugging
My house is in order!
I shout to a cosmos
intent on ignoring my pleas
chthonic forces insist
on invading dreams
psychic locks ineffectual
no barriers to protect
when soul mocks
purported equilibrium
Order, spirit answers,
is a temporal concept;
continue to grow.
(For Ragtag Community’s prompt: temporal. Image from personal collection.)
Quester
Like Quixote
and his windmills,
I chase horizons
Questing after
the unattainable
Like a windup doll
mechanically tuned
set on failure,
motivated, nonetheless.
Poets
Write to enlighten –
words are keys,
phrases fodder
We are conductors,
orchestrating ideas,
penning odes to life.
(Happy New Year all!)
Together, Hope
Aged and well worn –
history and family
have left their marks –
weakness surfaces.
I tug at the imaginary
unravel essential core –
hearts burdened hide
gilded truths
Uncovering, a collaborative task
housing a trove of potential –
optimism and hope within,
always more room for growth.
(Image from personal collection)
Contrived
I am sculptor,
shapeshifter –
carve persona
from cold rock –
a master illusionist
elude sharp corners
molded in mist –
pray reputation
does not pursue me.
ME/CFS
These words illusion
portray vibrancy of life
belie the mundane
wicked exhaustion my truth
drudgery daily routine.
(For Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Challenge: wicked/ mundane; and BrewNSpew’s prompt: illusion. Forgive me for indulging in a moment of self-pity. Post celebration crash normal. Image from personal collection.)
Glorious
How a single ray of light
slips through a thicket
setting a leafy row ablaze,
How the kingfisher’s trill
echoes off the silken waters,
How our love remains despite
the ills that pursue us –
Glorious mystery.
(Image from personal collection.)
In The Moment
Euphoric, wrapped
in silent aftermath,
love’s vibration
still aglow
Push aside
the fear
the effort
it took
to get here
Bask in the moment –
tomorrow, I’ll cry.
Woven Deceit
I trace the fibre
of each of your lies,
note the intricacy
of their overlapping –
marvel at the depths
of your scheming,
still suffering aftershock
of deception’s braid.
(Tuesdays I borrow from my Twitter poetry. Visit me @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
One Woman's Quest 