Poem: Flying towards infinity

trees are monsters when one treads in the darkness

I tried to reach you, but there was only an illustrious fog

queen of the night glowing, creating a dream-like scenery

the ocean before me all familiar, but it tastes somewhat more ripe

and I stopped, despite the fact that I haven't reached my destination

my eyes drawn to the walking stick left behind

its' owner went away on a final departure, like a falling star

we each take the life we were given, try to make it our own

fill it with days when we're flying towards infinity

that everlasting light flickering somewhere we can't see

but the yearning to find it comes deep from the ribs

*

Poem: The passage

The Passage - Elisabetta Trevisan

we immerse ourselves in flowers, leaves, snow and ears of poppies

all year round we change the way we wear our faces

eternal calmness always rooted deep within

for we know things about where we come from

giving us that motherly wisdom books can't teach

lest we forget a simple call of a rook might evoke strings within

we believe that with every passage we gain life

yet it is forever changing in what it gives and offers

knowing nothing lasts forever, our hearts grieve beforehand

time flows on with no resistance

*

Written for a poetry prompt at imaginary garden with real toads. The image featured is by Elisabetta Trevisan, you can find her work here: LINK.

Poem: Lighthouse

La Jument, off the coast of Brittany, photograph by Jean Guichard

waves keep on crashin' into the walls

trying to erase things you want to let go

restless nature of your mind thinks

it will find freedom in loneliness

yet it is begging for help, I can hear it roar

no matter how legitimate reasons you forge

no matter what lies you tell yourself

there is no way to push the years you spent

out of your ocean – they happened

and they formed a perfect place

to swim in – ever forward with the tide

the lighthouse is always there to remind you

of a way to yourself who wants rescuing

and if you ever go blind

I'll throw myself into you

to find a beacon, that tiny ray

and bring you back home

*

Written for poetry prompt by Magpie tales #202. Murakami's The wind up bird chronicle and music by Ludovico Einaudi were there inspiration.

Poem: It was the road

so randomly our paths intertwine

every person sitting on the edge of his throne

watching the world unfold

every person with a heartbeat that is his

yet the rhythm soothes us all the same

a million roads leading nowhere

a million more for those who see

new paths forming with every step we make

cycle of life leaves us somewhat fearful of tomorrow

it starts our slowly, once you learn to run

it seems you're out to outrun yourself

milestones just fly by

certain doors are harder to open

others you won't be able to close

grab what memories you can

every now and again, nostalgia will take over

reminding you of events by which you were made richer

some seem so far away

while other you seem to see in the mirror

what we share now is time, which will soon become history

and future will make us better judges

we received no instructions

life lessons are for free

the details of what we love shape our days

they fill our lives with the fragrance of purpose

in the end you'll see it was the road,

which made the pearls shine

*

Poem: Waking up giants

dark clouds with rain

have been clogging the night

but you believe the daytime

will scatter them away

yet when you gaze at the possible future

a certain feeling of unease washes you over

like a fire in the stomach

that no amount of water will put out

watching monsters grow out of their shape

as you count sheep,

but some idea won't let you sleep

yet you can't find out,

how to write it down

the fear soon catches your eyes – so alienated

in the city of skyscrapers

there is no place like home

down the fountain of dreams

you dropped a torch

bumping against the walls of caged reality

casting beams, distorting dreams, waking up giants

the ground on which we roam

cracking from underneath

steps we take between tragedy and comedy

every heart a lonely survivor -

a beholder who knows the essence

*