Like my body
Words grow
Ebbing and flowing
With time passage.
Narrative tale
Personal nature
Evolution’s progress
Inner perception
To reality.
Each new revelation
Self-exploration
Of truths and lies
Understanding oneself.
Development stages
Learning to spell
Putting words together
Coherent manner
Soul singing.
Perfection
Cruel delusion
We chase
Mistaken belief
Within grasp.
Like Icarus
Flighting too high
On waxen wings.
Forced words
Dissonance discord
Anger and rage
Rebellious teenager
Discovering boundaries.
Lifelong achievement
Never fully reach
Both feet-other side
Epiphany moment
Observed.
Therisa © 2018
Author's note:A poem for Poets United’s midweek motif writing prompt: poems. Poetry, which marks my transition through life, to where I hope to get, someday.
6 comments:
I luv that you included that zicarus verse. It put another perspective to development and understanding. That being the era and time factors
Muvh💛💐love
I especially love the flighting too high on waxen wings.
Better to "fly too high on waxen wings" rather than have done nothing. For all the mistakes and hurt in the past must be left behind us for each morning is a new day and you can be renewed as well.
I love that Icarus stanza too. "Forced words / Dissonance discord" This is so true.
I also use poetry to learn about myself and to understand the world around me
You're right: If we force words into our poems (or into our lives), there will be dissonance. Finding just the right word is not always easy, but always possible, and always the poet's quest.
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