Standing wizened and bowed;
Knotted with weary worries and gnarled guilts;
Aged by oaken regrets and willowy dreams, broken;
Twisted by time passing in ever shrinking rings,
Of passing draughts interspersed with hopes, lost;
Deeply bowed, yet standing;
Still standing, still.
Knees stiffly bend,
With creaks and popping cracks;
The ground rises, catching him gracefully by the seat;
Settling down, tired boughs finally at rest;
Eyes dripping closed,
Whipping winds of worries calm;
Gusts of guilt and shame slow and quiet;
Willowy dreams wisp away;
Oaken scars fade;
Time pauses, still.
Another rung drawn, he rises,
He stands, again.
Today’s poem, Still Standing, was inspired by my morning meditation.
- A Return to PatternsBe well, Monty
- QuietHe’s been quiet lately. The voice in my head. The voice that is, quite frankly, a bit nuts. Often compelling me toward darkness. Vacillating betweenContinue reading “Quiet”
- TodayToday’s a gorgeous weather day. Cool with a light breeze. Bright and sunny aside from my spot in the shade of the tree above me.Continue reading “Today”
- Shine OnShine on, shine on, shine on meShine your light on meLight me up, cast away my doubtsLift me out of these shadowsI’m ready, I’m ready,Continue reading “Shine On”
- Here I Go AgainHere I go again. Interrupting this negative space with some generic typeface. No particular intentions. Just wanna release built-up tensions. It’s coming out in dripsContinue reading “Here I Go Again”