She views the world through autumn eyes
that on this day are cast in gray
as winter tries to tip the scale…
Weeks and months and years have passed
to leave eroded and refined
each moment lived; each bend and turn
etched in crease and smile line.
And always playing
in her mind
the words that
paint the world she sees—
the people met,
emotions felt;
thoughts that
bend and twist within
and beg escape
from their confines
When did such purpose come about—
a want, a need to somehow
share
and bare the colors of her soul…
when even casual observation
implores discovery on a page.
And the words….
always ruminating,
to form and re-form,
while creating
background
music heard by one.
You’ll see her
jot a line or two
on any scrap
or sticky note,
or back of
envelope will do.
And on rare
times when words align
to culminate with
her inflection
she’ll deem a poem
or piece complete
or at very
least well- honed
to “acceptable”
perfection.
She sees her world through autumn eyes
as winter creeps up on her trail.
Time has deepened tone and voice
—so often lost within the forest
of other voices in the chorus—
becoming still as life assails
till call to write once more prevails;
another story whispers, waiting,
the challenge in the undertaking.
© Ginny Brannan 2016
This was written in 2016, and published in the collection: Poetry as a Spiritual Practice: Illuminating the Awakened Woman—a collection of poems by the Journey of the Heart Poets available at Amazon.com
This was written in 2016, and published in the collection: Poetry as a Spiritual Practice: Illuminating the Awakened Woman—a collection of poems by the Journey of the Heart Poets available at Amazon.com
