Catharsis

Tears of the past invoke frozen footprints When fears rekindle flares of dire misery Feeling the ache, straining blood streams As wrinkles pop up swelling deep worries, Holding dialogue with sustained poverty Attempting to traverse shuttered streets-- Bent, but not broken, in grip of tragedies Trapped in the pathos of agonizing grief Building escape still, flexing meager means. When in my solitude, these images I’ve seen Awaken me hauntingly in frightening dreams, Grudgingly I go there, where I used to be And see a child deep in hapless poignancy Bleeding profusely from veins melancholy Revisiting relentlessly orphaned memories. Time unconsciously releases those feelings When ode to new morn happy robin sings As sun rises gleefully from deep blue seas And life illuminates in golden hued beams Oscillating winds, gleaming through trees, And I walk with pride on the bridges I built And thank my bright stars that lit my path Twinkling diligently to show me the light When obscure was the face of my dark night. Silhouettes of yesteryear are purging now Cleansing dread with vibrancy of spring And jitters of nightmares in aspiring dreams Seeing new growth in parched winter land Like flowers rise through remains of ashes Confronting what was, with what could be. I have staged my play to my own melodies And the rhythms I set to my own music No longer evoke the prompt life gave me As I write new chapters, create new scenes I’m planning the ending as I wish to see it: The story that was past, my future won’t be. December 7, 2020 Placed 1st: Catharsis poetry contest by Silent One