I’m in the middle of it
clothes pegs on pictures faded
owls echoing self-reflection
check the twine string’s tension
folds curl on my face
my silver hair above me
my baby toes beneath me
everything nature gave me
I went in and came out differently
all is given until it gets taken
the transition of creation
it comes back to me
when loud forces appear
I start to see clearly
like the black cat I stretch
and I chase –  madness escapes
there are no breaks in place
my lips can’t tell the cells
to renew themselves but see
I may use all my strength for it
again the dimmed past
facing another phase alone
a different version to be
dusk falls on the observant
laced up seasons of living

© Monique (starfish_72)


Gepubliceerd door

Monique's Notebook

Poetry mainly - I play with my creative freedom.

Geef een reactie

Vul je gegevens in of klik op een icoon om in te loggen.

WordPress.com logo

Je reageert onder je WordPress.com account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )

Google photo

Je reageert onder je Google account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )


Je reageert onder je Twitter account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )

Facebook foto

Je reageert onder je Facebook account. Log uit /  Bijwerken )

Verbinden met %s