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Best Poems Written by Susan Q Miller

Below are the all-time best Susan Q Miller poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Open Door

The Open Door
       By susan Q miller © 2019

In the winter of my mind there is darkness…
cold, harsh judgment and distraction.

I wander through the dank corridor 
with an occasional flickering candle to guide me.

Where am I? 	Who am I?

So many years.  No answers. 		I press on.

Yesterday, over a cup of coffee, my friend said, 
“People don’t generally change.”                                    

My heart sank. My feet engaged in kicking it as I walked home.

Today, in the parking lot, 
that place where we leave our vehicles 
and head out on foot in search of something, 

a dearer friend reminded me that I am a “Full House.” 

If I’m feeling cramped in one room, it may be time to move to another.

I picked up my heart and carried it out of the narrow corridor 
simply by opening the door.

There, as light flooded the space around me, 
I rediscovered that magical, mystical chamber.
           
You know, 

The one that melts the edge of winter into a radiant pool of possibilities.

Here there is no frost or ice to inhibit me, no narrowing walls to hold me back.

Here I feel my warm cup half-full and waiting.

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Convictions

Convictions 
susan Q. miller © 2011
Song Lyrics

Maybe our convictions are convictions after all,
They lock us in a prison in our minds. 
They keep us from living in this moment. 
We’re out of synchronicity---out of present time.

Convicted by convictions, we are prisoners, prisoners. 
Living in the past we will never be free 
Until we breakout, until we break out, 
Open up and live our lives today.

I'm not looking for a pot of gold 
At the end of some long road. 
Treasures wait around each bend, we can uncover them.
There is no end to the wealth to be discovered 
When we break out, break out of our delusions,
Break out, break out of all our past conclusions. 
Then we can be free, yes we can be free to live today, today 
Let’s live for today.

Maybe our convictions are convictions after all.
They lock us in a prison in our minds.
Each of us are wardens and we hold the key.
There is no one else who can set the prisoner free.

So if we breakout, if we’re willing to breakout
Of past conclusions, our delusions,
Then we can be free
Free to live today
Free to find a better way
No time to waste on blame.
It’s time to break out.
We’ve got to break out.

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Words

Words 
                                   by susan q. miller © 2013

                               Words are a vapor that lingers
                                  hanging upon the heart
                                   As weapons---chains
                                           or
                      As healing hands, reaching out, holding on.
                                            Words,
                                    a doorway, a window,
                                    A wall, a barricade.
                                    No entry or welcome 
                                         they say.
                     Long after the sound of the words are dim,
                                   their meaning echos,
                                 Over and over they echo.

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Homeless

HOMELESS 
by susan q miller ©2013


To others she is homeless
out living on the street.

Living—she is—living free.

Is she?

She’s a paradox unanswered,
A question unresolved. 

Is she truly homeless-

I wonder, as she passes with a smile,
pushing her heavy burdens with flair, with style?

Or, am I the one who’s homeless,
my soul an unfed child,
my closet full of burdens hidden in the dark.

She pulls hers through these rutted streets,
her face a light, a song.
Reminding me that home is where you are.

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Truth-The Allusive Beast

Truth-The Allusive Beast
      susan Q miller © 2018

Tell me where the truth lies. 
I want to find it now,
Though I know this allusive beast is always on the prowl.
Does the beast ever lay, 
Quiet, certain in its place? 
Will I someday see what it looks like
Or has it an ever, changing face?

It’s winter outside this morning, 
Too cold to go out for play.
So I sit in bed and wonder 
What Truth looks like today. 
Will I see it in the mirror or on the evening news?
More likely I’ll get a glimpse 
If I follow my Muse. 

Please lead me dear companion ‘til I find my way 
Back through the jungles and the cavern walls 
That keep me closed off from you.
I trust you on this journey, 
Guide me on this flight
So even in my darkness 
I might glimpse the Truth tonight.

Then I heard you say, "Why bother,
What purpose have you
To seek the truth uncovered?
What will you do then?
Go back to idling time away?"
I just sat, pensive, wondering,
No answer, nothing to say.

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A Broken Wing

A BROKEN WING 
by susan Q miller © 2008


A broken wing, a broken shell, 

        candlelight, the incense sweet

              Upon my altar.

A broken heart, a broken dream,
.
,              the memories will not mend.

Before day breaks, I alone, the healer, must dream, new dreams,

         Or make old dreams new

                And fly on the wings of faith

   Into my future – today –

           Before night falls, before I miss an appointment with my soul.

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It Fell

It Fell
						    by susan Q miller © 2014
							
It fell,
            Something hard
		Off the shelf
			Without warning,
				Breaking what lay beneath,
			  		 A favorite green bowl, a hand-crafted half-orb
						Made by these hands.
				     
This vessel 
        once held my morning sustenance.
 		Now its fragments 
			Lay scattered at my feet.

I am not shattered.
	 Gathering the shards 
                  Of something once whole and precious to me,
			I am reminded of how fragile life is
					And that nothing lasts forever.