General Poetry posted October 20, 2022


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Landscapes of the mind

by kiwisteveh

 
 
There is no loneliness like this.
 
 
The mind's an ocean
 
where dark things, barely visible,
 
plagued by wind and water,
 
rise and flow.
 
 
I shall not anchor there.
 
 
The people are a tide.
 
Grudges and sorrows, in turbid ebb and flow
 
bear their flotsam
 
through the hollow roaring of the sea
 
until they languish and decay,
 
debris cast up against a careless coast.
 
 
The last ripple exhausts itself.
 
 
Eyes turn inwards;
 
the crippled brain lives on the edge of doubt,
 
a trembling flame that flutters towards tomorrow
 
through the darkened hours
 
of murmurous night.
 
 
The air is drugged.
 
Somnolent, the moon hangs pale
 
from canopy of cloud.
 
Unpainted stars,
 
as if the sky has let them go,
 
are vanished gods.
 
 
But now
 
dawn flint strikes sparks across the east.
 
Shadow and sunlight merge.
 
Hesitant,
 
not intent upon arriving,
 
day blooms like a new-washed shirt.
 
Rock and ocean and forest we were made from
 
trigger  a response,
 
fragments of pleasure
 
freedom's fragrance.
 
 
The wise and the lovely tread softly
 
through the world's sad story,
 
true happiness a castle that can never exist.
 
 
There's only me, 
 
and acceptance demands surrender
 
to sea and sky
 
in all their savage splendour.
 
 
 
 

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