I need my quiet time every morn Though some days it gets lost in the race That’s when sunsets become more crucial Regardless of the place Another sunset, an evening ritual As one more day fades away No matter what continent I may be on My attitude toward it is never blasé
Whether on the beach or high in the mountains I intend to climb out of my hole This serenity allows me to confront The demons in my soul So I sit alone with my box of horrors Allowing reality to wash over me Not always the most comfortable feeling But today it is a necessity
Bracing myself I open that box With all the hideousness no one can see That most days I can’t even face alone Praying God, indeed, stands beside me Evil spirits of guilt and anger Along with regret in a box lined in pain Why do I keep them locked away? They are not treasures but binding chains
Dumping it out lightens my load But still there is the lining of pain It doesn’t ever go away So under lock and key it will remain Time is limited before nature closes It’s lid on another day And darkness again swirls around me Before I can make sense of my sad foray
So beautifully expressed! We all come with boxes and baggage, guess it just cannot be helped. Yet, sometimes we do have to let go and let the sun shine back into our hearts....
Oh my!!! Oh my!!! what should be do if there were no demons to battle in the morning? and why don't set free those little pains like the Asians set free a canary, so it can take his spirits pains and scatter them in the sky?
Bittersweet one this is.
Georg
I used to have such a box - under lock and key, then decided that it was getting too heavy. Fortunately, your box has handles allowing friends to help you carry it. I am glad that you allow me to help 'carry your box.' It does get lighter, but that lining never goes away - bummer - as you say. Thankfully, the lining get thinner with time.
That box can as Felix says Raelynn with a little help from your friends get a lot lighter. We love ya face and want all your days to be bright.
Your Newfie Friend sending Hugs, Rose
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on January 13, 2008
Taking the peace and serienty where and how you can find it . . . This is a poem of need and inspection, supplimented by beauty which offsets the uglies within . . . I understand poetry such as this . . .
Beautifully said RaeLynn. We all have a box of horrors tucked away somewhere, unfortunately. Some much bigger than others. Well done. God bless you my friend.
The intensity of this write matches your inner most feelings and though that box may be heavy and hard to cope with...it is still a box of things unneeded and one that should be and can be thinned out to make the load just a little lighter. Then with the help of friends and smiles it will get easier to open and close it then before.
If you tend to believe romantic, passionate, masculine poetry is a thing of past eras, read "She Intrigues Me," and be swept away in the beautiful craft of a contemporary poet of love.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
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Be safe,
Karen
peace & love be with you
William
Bittersweet one this is.
Georg
I love you. God bless you. Kathy
Your Newfie Friend sending Hugs, Rose
Open and honest Rae,
hugs
Fee
It never fully goes away, but with God's help, you'll get through. Powerfully penned sadness...well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.