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)
These bones, they saywill finish me – too brittleto withstand the race But I am Willowrecollection wispymy dance defiant Porous as a sea spongesoaking up each daymettle despite the rattle (Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest II 
So true! BTW, the shades of pink made me think of Elle Woods who is ALWAYS about possibilities! lol
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Lol!
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🙂
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This is so beautiful and hopeful, from artwork to poem!
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Thanks 😊
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It’s a lovely thought and image, V.J. Alas, at times it’s hard to dream and invent wings.
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Wonderfully uplifting!
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Oh, yeah! Thanks Eugi
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Most welcome!
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Beautiful! And the longer I live, the more I recognize adversity as a friend when it shows up instead of after the fact in hindsight. Always so much easier when I see it going in!
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That’s so true. Thanks.
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An uplifting affirmation for a dreary Wednesday morning. Thank you!
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😊
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Very inspiring!
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Thanks Heather!
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You’re welcome.
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Beautifully said
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😊 🙏
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