2 – DARKEST NIGHTS
in my darkest nights
restkess thoughts are roused by ghosts
of what might have been
Water
I think about it
while I’m at work
about slowly dipping myself
into the hot steamy basin
feeling my body submerged
releasing the tension
from the day
from my aching throbbing self
but I don’t.
I tell patients all day long
at the chronic pain clinic
to relax those muscles
to free the spasms that envelope them
to take a break from the pain
find some respite
for just a little while
but I don’t.
Release your mind, I say
soothe the body
free the spirit.
I tell them the prolonged
pain response
is like pouring gasoline
on a fire
to care for themselves
find the energy to
change their routines
but I don’t.
Hour Two: Let the Fear Speak
Peek over that ledge
but not too far
lest you forget
who you are:
not one to take risks
oh no
not that
too scared of the fall
and what’s below
or that you might
fumble and tumble and
make a splat
and the world will
point and laugh as you
drown in a pool of
your own foolish
blood.
Hour 2 (2022) image – Above, the Beloved ©️
Trigger Warning – loss, death, greif
<image prompt response>
I watch you grow,
wondering if you know,
how proud I am
to see you glow.
The birds sing songs
to let you know,
My love is sent
—
As above,
So below.
—
I’m still here;
I’m free!
Please do not fear.
But,
remember me,
with glee.
his journey
he climbs
no destination in mind
the journey, his freedom, his peace
he climbs further still
above the clouds
’til I am dust and he is sky
Poem 2 Hour 2 Music
The woods are lovely, dark and deep (Robert Frost)
I whisper my secrets to the leaves.
Time is lost and I am found.
I’m not alone among the creatures who sleep.
I face the demons in my mind.
The wind creates music within the trees.
And we dance together long past evening.
The Darkest Hour, hour two prompt
Standing still in woods alone,
long limbs shake and ears prick
hearing hoofbeats just beyond the woods.
A partial alarm is waiting
Heart pounding and quietly quaking
watching the man admiring the snow.
I turn and sprint to life, fleeting like wind,
dark against black, against Robert Frost’s
‘the deepest night’,
a lone deer flying deeper into the wood,
the wood still, and silently, filling with snow.
Miles to Go Before I Sleep- Hour 2
Miles to go before I sleep.
Whispers of words
Poems sliding into consciousness
I glide my fingers across the keyboard
Allowing them free reign
to do what they wish.
My mind is jumbled
With today’s news
Tomorrows promise
But today
I am poetry
A sing song palette
Words slinking, swaying,
Sorting themselves
22 Poems to go
Miles to go before I sleep
(Inspired by Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening)