Tag: questions

Could It Be?

Walking away is the only solution
I’ve ever excelled at, and yet,
absence does not obliterate
that which dwells within

I can pretend that I have nothing
to offer, but life and circumstance
require more: challenge me
to exhume remaining potential

Am I up to the task?

There is flattery in being looked up to,
the feeling that someone needs me –
but that is akin to temptation –
an ego play…

Could it be that wisdom acquired
has merit only when shared,
that we are all here to do our part,
that we are meant to engage?

Will I find a flow, rediscover
a synchronicity, reignite
a passion, and belong again?
Dare I hope?

(I first wrote this poem, two and half years into a debilitating illness that kept me bed bound. This version is edited, and I chose to share it now as a reminder not to give up. The answer to the questions posed is a resounding “Yes!” Image my own)

Does Peace Have a Sound

Does peace have a sound,
and if it does, is it soft like a whisper,
or chime-like – a resonance
reverberating from tip to crown?

I have known exaltation,
felt my heart thrill at the dance
of dolphins just beyond my reach

I have known elation, awe,
honour and humility,
but would I recognize peace?

Joy is a child’s laughter
bliss, indescribable pleasure,
so why am I forgetting peace?

Does peace have a sound
and if it does, will I recognize it
attuned as I am to discord?

(Image my own)


I Wonder

Is this life-play pre-staged –
reservations made in childhood
when fun constituted priority,
and drama thrived, unchecked
by adults, bemoaning authority,
too self-absorbed to conceive
consequences beyond jest?

Or did some karmic assessment
initiate the unfolding –
social standing, and needs
prescribed as lessons,
dependents selected as inspiration,
and if so, is there a contract
revealed upon ultimate exit
or a certificate of completion
securing passage upwards?

A Mother Seldom Asks

Where does a woman store her dreams
while children need chauffeuring
and parents’ health is in decline?

What goal does she dare strive for,
that won’t supersede obligation,
nor tax already waning energy?

Why is it that her efforts –
exceeding expectations –
often fail, demanding more?

How does she keep hope alive
when illness usurps functioning
and the off-ramp is miles behind?

Who will carry her when winter’s grasp
makes passage undependable, and
she has no choice but to surrender?

(V.J.’s challenge this week is questions.)