Today’s poem.  Ok – when one is at the end of a very long haul of illness topped by more illness of a loved one, it tends to get kind of gloomy.  Apparently my mind can’t be coaxed into focusing on anything else for right now so I gave in.

***
Meaning evaporates, metaphors flee –
what is left to say when fate or some fake
god rains destruction on all your dreams;
how is hope to shatter fear that this snapshot
isn’t all that remains- my dry gaze seeing only desert
when all is actively greening…

The cup with chammomile and honey sends steam
into the chilled air of this house that refuses to
become a home; three orchids sit at table’s edge
at the window’s ledge – two refuse to bloom, one
is dying.  I would heal myself but cannot seem
to master the technique.  Even the piece of
dark chocolate sits ignored.

Come now all you angels – I would be awakened
by your soft pokes, by a feather left in my path
for belief in something other than despair and
sorrow – a bright flame in a dark forest – anything –
to light my way and allow a bit of hope into my life
for one more day.

***

With any amount of luck if I let the feelings have their say, eventually we (my feelings and I) will be able to move along to a different topic.

Meanwhile we will go with bare basics here.  I have a small window of a nice day for a change and need to go out and plant seedlings that are getting much too leggy way too quickly.

edit:  I came back and added pictures.  Because words need pictures