abuse · adversity · poetry · recovery · writing

Cracking the Code

Adept at uprooting,
conditioned to follow chaos –
know my place there.

Kindness unsettles –
each ray piercing
cracking the crust

unleashing a prism
both painful and joyous –
legacy of dysfunction.

(Poem from Twitter @Vjknutson.  Image from personal collection.)

 

 

creativity · nature · poetry · writing

Midnight Encounter

Midnight
and moon casts an eerie light
shimmers of white-kissed fields

Headlights off,
I pause to contemplate the glow
endless skies here beyond city limits.

A herd of deer graze
ignore the hum of idling motor
celebrate the lunar flood.

What drove me here,
I cannot say; perhaps clouds
relentless in February skies.

Or maybe it was another pull,
a knowing, a grace, calling me
to open spaces – an offering

Surreal this suspended moment
stars dispersing sombre greys
tides of emotion releasing

I am transported,
uplifted, encouraged –
Heaven’s stellar promise.

(Inspired by a midnight ride and Eugi’s Causerie prompt of the week:  stellar.  Image from personal collection.)

 

creativity · poetry

Together a Tapestry – V.J. Knutson — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Across the miles, our words convene, threads of our lives intertwining to form a tapestry. Stories of sorrow and kindness, humanity restored – of observation and empathy of inspiration through resonance of brilliance and artistry. Each thread as colourful as another, delicately added, thoughtful musings. Of generations and legacies, misunderstandings contributing to […]

via Together a Tapestry – V.J. Knutson — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

aging · Family · life · Love · poetry · relationships · writing

Crusader’s Return

This exile –
self-imposed, I confess –
wears thin with age.

Too many winters
braving the cold –
heart’s frozen rebellion
against Father’s tireless raving,
Mother’s queenly submission.

So many moons
engaged in a crusade –
armed with but a hollow sword –
the chill of time lapsed,
irretrievable.

Castle lights are waning,
death lingers in the air,
and only now, on this fateful
periphery, do I wonder –
measure the rage against costs –
blame’s righteousness builds
only walls – faults corpses
rotting either side.

Empty-handed, I approach,
cowed by the enormity of task –
bearing no gifts, no legacy –
only a paltry offering
of forgiveness – pray
I am not too late.

(Image provided by Willow Poetry as her weekly challenge:  What Do You See?  Also linking up with Frank  at the dVerse pub, whose theme tonight is blame and forgiveness.  Ragtag Community’s prompt is fault.)