A song is sung,
A day is done,
One more joyous memory spun.
A song of strings,
Waiting for what next day brings.
Into the night,
Rest until bright
Dawn and new days morning light.
Drift off to sleep,
One less day I think.
A day to find memories to keep.
I love classical/instrumental music, my favorite being those pieces for violin and cello. One if my things is listening to those and thinking back on the day. Meditation to such music is such a relaxing experience.
In a different life
This pain she feels isn’t hers alone.
On this path there’s more than one shadow,
In a different life.
And in that different life, of which she often dreams.
There are hands to help her,
There are arms to hold her,
There is good and joyful news that’s told her.
There is a day without strife.
In that different life.
She stands and stirs from her daydream
Not seeing the faces in between.
The faces of those who wait.
Those who would help, that she does not contemplate.
Then she falls and cries out, to the void she thinks.
And crys again when she opens her eyes,
Surrounded by the faces and the hands of those who try,
And they who love and assist,
Thinking she was alone and not missed,
She never realized that her different life was this.
Posted in On A Positive Note
Tagged arm, dream, eye, face, hand, life, love, pain, path, poetry, shadow
A single tear from her soul only
Comes softly with the words “Just hold me”.
That cold summer, drifting, lonely.
I don’t remember what it was that came before.
Preceeding the darkened night,
Being a requiem to a hopeful twilight,
An angels song; a bewitching blight,
Does nothing to lift her from the floor.
There is a silence after her song.
There is the light before the dawn!
There is the hope that she’s forgotten!
These are the dreams that once were trodden.
She survives because she endures.
Now of one thing she’s sure:
Her hopes and dreams are worth the gain,
Worth the work, and all the pain.
She sees darkness itself is to blame,
Her souls tear, an angels song, the same.
To those who wait,
And those held under:
An unfair debate,
Hopes torn asunder.
Wait, at the end, a light.
But first, a path through dark.
Though there may be countless nights,
From the path I won’t depart.
Once there, such wonderous beauty
Introduces me to fate.
Glad that this has reminded me;
Good things come to those to wait.
A day in the trees,
Forgetting troubles below.
Far ahead she can see.
Vision unobstructed so,
One might wonder why,
Why would she ever come down?
Trees against a tempting sky,
Their branches make it impossible to frown.
Every comfort she could need there;
One blissful nap among the leaves.
Those troubles below need her care
In her those troubled believe.
She is not her own,
She is needed elsewhere.
The trees are not her home,
But she will seek them when time will spare.
Calling for the moon expecting light,
Waiting for a sign before the shadows have fallen.
There comes no brightness only night,
To this small world that’s walled in.
Between its branches, the towering trees afford,
A narrow view of glowing clouds,
That seemingly cast an air of discord
On those who linger beneath the foliage; the blackened shroud.
I will continue on. I feel such cold.
Another day within this arboreal labyrinth lost.
I know the way, I’m no longer young, now old.
Many times before and many times the cost,
I could have escaped long ago, and should have.
The minutes here appear so shallow.
And though the path was mine, it was fates’ to craft.
What I’ve learned has made my time here far from hollow.
Having pushed onward through twilight and holding onto seeing dawn,
I regret not the dusk through which I’ve come so far along.
Posted in On A Positive Note
Tagged brightness, cost, dawn, dusk, labyrinth, minutes, Moon, old, poetry, time, trees, twilight
A hope in the darkness shines
There’s the black with light behind.
We have pain, but also given joy.
An upward mindset now employed,
With something to look forward to
When this is all that we can do.
A hope, even as small as this,
Is enough to return to bliss.
When a length of time is spent in dispair,
It’s enough to know such hope is there.
The second piece written to one of my wifes paintings. Prints for sale at http://www.relentlesslovecreations.com