There's a path that winds its way, through shadows dark and deep,
A journey of solitude, where none can creep.
No companion can walk alongside, no hand to hold or guide,
A solitary voyage, where body and soul must divide.
Unlike life's vibrant roads, where laughter echoes free,
Where friends and loved ones stroll, in joyous company.
This journey's different, a lone pilgrimage, devoid of sound,
Where footsteps fade into silence, and hearts are left unbound.
The most poignant sorrow, is the disconnection's pain,
No words can bridge the gap, no visits can remain.
When one departs, they're gone, without a tomorrow's light,
Leaving memories to whisper, in the darkness of endless night.
In this lonely passage, we're left to face our fears,
With only shadows as companions, and tears that dry through the years.
No laughter echoes back, no smiles to warm the way,
Just the weight of final goodbyes, in the fading light of day.
Yet, in this solitude, we're forced to confront our soul,
To find the strength within, to make our hearts whole.
For though the journey's lonely, it's also a chance to grow,
To find the peace that lies within, and let our spirits glow.
I CANNOT SEA
A life unto of ebb & flow
The Masters seated down below
Or high above
I cannot tell
Heaven may beholden hell
My heart cries out
but I think I died
It doesn’t pound that it did before
For where I am, I am not to sure
I did not bleed, I did not scorn
Where did this rath come forlorn
I thought I’d paved the way to free
Yet here I am, alone -
I cannot sea
Except a fair few off light that dwindles
I’m thwarted & it pains me so
To just feel pain and so much woe
I cannot sea
Am I on a boat, Am I on a yacht
These memories that not be forgot
I think I know what’s happening here
It is my turn to take the steer
I never wanted it this way
But now I’m steering all the way
Until the next one, next from me
Beholds from not is from the sea
That dwindling light, passage unclear
The ebb & flow is so near
It may be your time soon to come
That pounding heart that is now done
I cannot sea
Can you see?
If you can breathe through it
You can get through it
If you can get through it
You can rise
If you can breathe through it
You can see your way through it
If you can see your way through it
You can fly
If you can breathe through it
You can push through it
If you can push through it
You can begin…again
If you can breathe through it
You can grow through it
If you can grow through it
You can win
Just breathe!
Road work had been finished
for the winter on an asphalt strip
north of town near a nature preserve.
I said good-bye to the hotel owner
and he invited me back
although the town was a lifetime away
from my home. We shook hands.
The town wore its history well
with a façade of an old west town
complete with a jail and post office
on its main street, as if it wanted
to live that life again.
Picture postcards were sold in a drug store
to be packed away and taken home.
Gates of fences aligning themselves
on either side of a highway
spoke of the last cattle drive.
I realized this was the west
where cowboys lived and died.
Reflections stirred of how we gave of our lives
for our dreams and for the ones we loved.
Hasn’t it always been this way?
Sandhills loomed to my side as I drove
on a two-lane east to another town
where I could see another historic site
then get onto the interstate and drive
to the next assignment.
The sky above the open land was an ocean
as I drove east toward the sun.
After Angella Voras-Hills
fallen green apples here and there
at a dead end, the yard is
where in the story lies an
ending, the life I lead an illusion
a collage along the road of
broken houses bathed in light
a quiet moment, a lament when
the day bleeds into colors
and all my realities and dreams connect
There is an illusion of light when the colors connect.
from an Angela Voras-Hills poem.
(Golden Shovel Form)
the ideals of my youth seemed so right at the time
seemed so right to stand up and fight
it seemed the
right passage to take
but.... the flames that once rose high
are now just sodden
ashes of time
travelling down the path of time
forward stepping to a new way
every time
rebirthing a stagnant mind
giving an exit to the loop
as the hour glass sands
slowly dropped
and time is drifting further away from these days
only memories
can relive these time stolen
days
Inspired by the YouTube’s videos
I watch the aging actors’ faces
Part of my youth, of there and then
The ruthless time erases traces
To waypoint stops, us younger when
So pensive, humbling and revealing
The glory past and fame archived
Age catches up, ain’t no concealing
And none of it can be revived
Those shows - naïve, addicting, funny
Or maybe serious and sad
The days one hasn’t had much money
Yet better-looking, girl or lad
The stunning beauties, macho fellas
They shined so brightly on the screens
We watched them, feeling slightly jealous
Uncrowned princes, lords and queens
Time has no mercy, twisting faces
And gruesome copies all is left
It slowly goes through the paces
Keeps us uneasy and bereft
Why do the actors age so oddly?
Me? I’m the same as ever been
To perish thought, dismissing broadly
The glaring truth, which isn’t sin
We gaze, but what’s the image here?
Not them. It’s us, the way we were
If you’re a woman – shed a tear
If you’re a man – go feel a stir
November 2, 2024
We drift, unaware—
years merge into moments,
promises fall by the wayside, collect dust.
If we could backtrack every decision,
each fault line of our days,
would we discover we really lived
or just shuffled in place?
Rite Of Passage
_______________
I haste not
I fear not
in harmonious cries, I plead
where flight has called this mighty warrior
red paint upon my cheek
O' cleansing smoke of wild grass high
of resin and sacred bead
a vision has taken this warrior's cry
anon, to capture a dream
I crawl through gates to reach the ledge
where spirit and smoke arise
and pluck the painted Northern Flora
and gaze through Savanna's eyes
A ship, a journey,
across a vast blue sea.
India calls
it a whispered mystery.
Foreign lands,
new sights unfold,
colonial eyes,
stories yet untold.
East meets West,
clash and blend,
cultures collide,
a world to transcend.
Hidden truths,
uncertainties,
a clash of hearts,
and different realities.
A passage,
not just of place,
but of minds,
in time and space.
Cinders, embers, ashes
rain over meadows blue,
sailing celestial sphere
destined to get to you
We shall all die
One day.
It is the way
Of this Universe.
We walk upon
The dirt of life and death.
We are but a speck
Of Cosmic dust
In comparison to the vastness
Of Space.
Our little orb appears to be unique.
The stars overwhelm the night sky
As I gaze
Into its sparkling darkness,
I can only wonder
At its brilliance,
And what could possibly
lie beyond . . .
A Haiku Poem
Crossing in between,
Roaring sounds beam light throughout,
Passes just in time.
We stand still as stone, hold our shape over time
Watchers of the mosque, we watch as masks walk
Each passing stride a new universe of re-re-redesign
Every step under us, on the same curve of cold rock
Carved from the whole, statues with earth-turning toes
Clay feet on a cobbled road, yet we continue
Seeing the still-captured unease of being alone
Static herd, sighing hive, we eye worlds within you
Still, we'll spill your secrets when a wrong wind hits us
Whether from heaven's breath or heathen sent
Neither faith nor time nor bombs colliding play favorites,
All of it razes all of us, to a gatherless disorientation
Mere dust, trading memories of your faces from the belly of what's left,
The plastic bottle; an eternal hourglass, immune to time’s theft
We
Emerge
Through
The innards
Of drenched
Scarlet, with
A piercing cry
Of an afflicted
Crow, away
From clan,
Rising slowly,
A flaming ember,
Over the fingers
Of trees
We grow,
We plough
And web next
To kill and take
With gluttony
Of the hyena
For food, love
And wealth
But all
Too soon
To retire
As sinking
Red ball
Behind
The
Fingers
Of
Trees
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