Grief is an earthquake, sudden and unforgiving,
Splitting the ground beneath your feet,
Turning the familiar into fractured ruin.
It shakes the foundations of who you are,
Toppling memories like crumbling buildings,
Leaving nothing but dust where laughter once stood.
Aftershocks linger in the quiet moments,
A tremor in your chest, a crack in your voice.
You try to rebuild, but the landscape has changed-
The world tilts differently without them in it.
Some days, you step forward, thinking the worst has passed,
Only to stumble as the earth quivers once more,
A song, a scent, a whispered name-
And suddenly the fault lines widen,
Swallowing you whole in a moment’s collapse.
Times move on, but the wreckage remains,
Slowly, painfully, you clear the rubble,
Learning to build around the gaps,
Knowing the scars will never fade,
But hoping, one day, the ground will hold steady again.
And as the years pass, you realize-
No matter how many walls you raise,
Or how many roads you pave over the broken earth,
You are still standing in the ruins of what once was,
Waiting for a home that will never be rebuilt.
Categories:
timelines, death, deep, depression, grief,
Form: Free verse
There is
An apparent
Lifestory
Which seems to
Fill a timeline..
Life stories
Intersecting
With conflict and
Peace and claiming
Understandings..
Apparently...
Categories:
timelines, conflict, depression, time, uplifting,
Form: Light Verse
The volcano leveled
then a great wind blew the rest away.
Early humans came late.
They had callused soles and rough hands
they knew how to dig,
run and hide.
When the flood came
they were at ease feasting on stringy meat and bones
in the makeshift camps of their tribes.
The locust eating priests
declared it was everyone's fault
but theirs.
Contrite, and greatly diminished in number
they began to scratch the history of the world
on random stones.
Volcanos grew testy again
smoke and fiery fumes scorched the sky.
They packed up their meager possessions
and trekked. The tribes did not stop walking
until they found a lost scripture in the dust.
Some called the find a bible
written by soothsayers
yet unborn,
but in truth
it was yet another mystical footprint
to follow -
a sign to track
out of this inexplicable land
that kept blowing away
on the shifting sands
of bad times.
Categories:
timelines, poetry,
Form: Free verse
All my hope is in that other timeline.
The timeline that grew up beside me like a friendly neighbor.
I have moved past what I thought was fate.
Surrounded by old wishes-
That have turned into new promises.
Categories:
timelines, hope,
Form: Free verse