Is it selfishthis chosen solitude?How I treasure silence,stillness baiting my muse And is it my calmthat attracts chaos?The sorrow of otherslanding on my doorstep What if I rejected pleas,locked out the troubles?How long can I sustainpeace until need answers? (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Does illness have a voice,and if so; is it melancholy,or dark and dank, divulgingdeepest despair, or revealinga vileness of nature? Discord creeps along my veins,disrupts muscles, systems failingunder the oppression –“Stay strong,” friends counsel,cannot hear the gathering storm,feel the heaviness cloaking me. I am not myself, but then;who am I? Is disease a mutationof the […]
Discharge the gun –protection a vesselthrough which our depthsare undefined…adrift Fear is a burrowerwears a false crownbirths losstrusts danger Hearts beg,amid this trigger-readinessfor a guardian – unafraidto court this meaningless Futility unchecked –to study productive optionsunimaginable in the current state of chaos on repeat. (Art my own)
One Woman's Quest II 
I can agree to that stitch a new garment thought but can we do this?
As a one single unit?
I doubt that.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Me too. But without inspiration to guide us, we won’t try.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes, you are right 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
A hard truth to accept that normal never was, but truth it is.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Amen! 🌸
LikeLiked by 2 people
Amen to that! And I agree, this is our opportunity to change for the better.
LikeLiked by 1 person
…stitch a new garment…. Exactly right. Thank you for sharing this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure, Andrea.
LikeLiked by 1 person