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Best Poems Written by Tia Lane

Below are the all-time best Tia Lane poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Anchor of Stone

Cradle the weight between my shoulders.
Heavy thoughts anchor down the nomadic mind.
Tired and weary from the constant battle.
Chewing on words from a forgotten rhyme.
On my knees in a steady rain.
Left with shards of a vision torn.
Walking over cobblestone broken and gray.
The streetlights hang their heads to mourn.
Valkyries have long abandoned this field.
There are no angels to take me home.
Crawling ahead to finish this race.
Carve my name into the stone.

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Cascades

Giants creep through disguised as trees.
Tiptoeing by the ancients asleep underneath.
A deep slumber echoes from the ground.
A blanket of silence filters the sound.
The mist rolls in and the forest takes a breath.
A crow takes flight and comes to a rest.
This mossy rock becomes my throne
In the center of my newly found home.
My spirit wanders, and I wonder,
What could ever pull me under?
The dragon raises his lazy head.
The cave has collapsed and the knight is dead.
It is all a battle to stay afloat.
To be the one with the strongest boat.
The storm rolls in and takes us all.
Some of us are likely to survive the fall.
Footprints fade along the shore. 
The next adventure begs to be born.
Breathe the frozen air and let it burn.
Stitch together the pattern of what we have learned.
Roll the fabric and put it away.
They are just maps to treasures within my brain.

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Sitting With The Light

Sitting in it.
The evening sunlight stretched across my lap
like a thin blanket just meant to keep my legs warm.
Birds chirp as they nestle in the trees.
Their mother's outstretched arms.
Fairies flicker in the golden light
singing the flowers to sleep.
Spirits of the sky and dirt bustle about
as the day slips into night.
Honey colored rays fade into pale blue steel.
Fade into charcoal gray.
Fade into black.
And, I am sitting in it.
The stillness of the dark comforting me,
same as the light.

Details | Tia Lane Poem

Floating Above Myself

Dissociated
Looking around
Can’t connect the dots to who or what I was before
My feet have been stained by a hundred strains of grass
Seen and known outside the reach of this valley
Years of travel has worn my soles
Worn my soul
Chipped away the pictures I painted of the world I wanted
A cold world with a bitter tongue
The broken helping the broken because the fixers have all gone home
Your story is but a paragraph in a book of shattered hearts
A novel of shattered dreams
Scattered on the streets in puddles of liquid screams
Lines of hungry bellies waiting to make it another day
I wish we could feed on our fear
Then we would all eat like kings
Our souls are etched on the walls of the buildings in which we dwell
A reminder to those that follow
Pain was nurtured here