Gently the mist
Caresses my face
Wiping tears away
As I look up.
Knowing
The skies will blacken
Before clearing up
Like my soul.
On the horizon
Gathering storm clouds
Block out the light.
Sinking
Ever deeper
Into myself.
As the wind howls
Transforming mist
To a soul destroying rain.
Carving channels
Visible to the naked eye
Across my soulscape.
Watching
In real time
The land disappear
Underneath me.
Tumbling
I struggle to tell
Up from down
In this surry.
Time
Becomes meaningless
Beyond the next breath.
Until nothing
Only silence
As I laid awake
In my bed.
Realizing
Had just endured
A night terror.
Author's note: About the 4th day of this, I realized that I had intertwine least 2 different poems. So last night, I deleted all, but the first 3 stanzas. The things that we do for art (like no sleep).
Posted to http://newwhatsgoningon.blogspot.com
10 comments:
Therisa, I am so glad you linked your poem. I love the comparison with outer weather with the interior weather of the soul. I love "The skies will blacken before clearing up like my soul." Lovely to read you.
Oh, you described well the intensity of those night terrors. Those storm clouds really do block out the night. But thankfully, after those skies blacken, they So true that the skies often blacken, they DO clear. Great to see you again, Therisa!!
"Time
Becomes meaningless
Beyond the next breath.".....This is such a hard space to be in! You've taken the theme to a new level.
So nice to read your lines again. Thank you for joining us.
If earth has a persona, it's feeling exactly what the person is feeling--and multiply by thousands. How much do we carry the earth's pain? How much does it carry ours? Such a powerful piece! Thanks for bringing it here.
Oh Therisa and the the music...simply breath-taking and yes a nightmare of the soul... Stunning.
Therisa, it's funny how often internal and external match up, and it seems like a form of symbiosis. Good to read you again.
Therisa,
Your poem was a very vivid account of what was luckily a night disturbance and not happening for real..it's quite alarming when our happiness is impacted by the state of the weather, which we cannot control..
A beautiful poem, so thoughtful!!
annell livingston
Sinking, tumbling, the nightmare of inner storms mixing with real weather - that is a lot to endure. What is it that makes some people see the beauty of every moment (even the rough times) and some see only doom and despair?
I've never had night terrors but they sound dreadful. "Seeing the land disappear underneath me". I felt it!
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