Thoughts like this call to me
Now and then
I realize they’re always there
My lips may not move
Yet I wonder
Do you hear me
And miss me in the same way?
The time since may grow longer
But the time to come
When I may once more
Hold your hand is far shorter
This poem was inspired by Memorial, by Ron. Lavalette.
Thoughts to words
An open heart welcomes
A poet shares reflections from within
Symmetry an afterthought
A kaleidoscope escaping
its narrow confines
Welcomed for all time
by those who behold
This poem is inspired by By Design, by Betty Hayes Albright
Image by Dmitri Posudin from Pixabay
Word Without End
Poetry holds no conclusions,
Before one thought is finished,
another is formed.
One line inspires another.
One poem, yet another
Same author, or another.
It matters not.
Once written or spoken,
there is no end to poetry.
This poem is inspired by Paradoxical or how to read a poem,
by Peter Frankis.
Of the paths I have taken
The reward is the light
I have found along the way
This poem is inspired by Wide #midnighthaiku,
both Sue Vincent’s haiku and her photo.
Known, Yet Unknown
A friend you’ve never met
and you are the better for it.
Vision, with an eye for detail,
Vision, broad in perspective,
raises questions, brings understanding.
Vision regarding history
offer an interconnectedness.
Vision of the earliest moments
becomes a portal to the future.
And though still obscure,
as the final moment approaches,
a friend you’ll never meet
is willing to share it.
for Sue Vincent
Photo courtesy of Helen Jones
I have seen a horizon
but growing ever closer
no hurry to meet it
as it patiently waits
This gogyohka is inspired by Just Glad by Paul Cannon.
Image: Lake Ontario, 30 July 2011
held in thought
call to me
always out of reach
This gogyohka, inspired by water music by Kerfe Roig, is my response to
Colleen’s 2020 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday
#Poetry Challenge No. 187 #PhotoPrompt,
with the photo provided by Sally Cronin.
Silence in the sounds of nature,
my footsteps just another element
lost in the whoosh of waves
on this, my lone companion,
a deserted beach not so deserted.
Seclusion amidst the raw edge of nature,
a hundred gulls the voice in my ears.
Removed from myself in this isolation,
the silent voice of my thoughts
surrounds me, a greater force
of freedom craved, achieved.
Ever-changing, from tranquil to wrathful,
from granite gray to aqua, this beach,
this enigma, is as uncharted as my life,
never knowing what lies beyond the horizon.
Here, I am myself,
as I think, consider, compose.
Inspired by and distilled from “My Secret Beach,” by Keith Hillman, at Keith’s Ramblings. Thank you to Keith for graciously allowing me to post this poem.
Please visit the original, here.
This also serves as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt: Glisten #writephoto,
from Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo, with her photo.
Aware of Darkness
Who is to say one’s grief
is greater than that of another?
Never really gone,
all exist in all they touch,
yet some are touched
in ways that cannot be equaled.
Who is to measure a loss,
if not the one whose heart
cannot find a way to fill a space
that already holds something
that can no longer be touched?
One who sees the darkness
that would consume
the light that fills that space.
One who lives with that grief.
These are my thoughts after reading Beware of Darkness, by Kerfe Roig.
Linked to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub