Poetry: Closer to the Calm

Dipping back into the archives for some of the good stuff that I was too afraid to share back in the day. This one is about five years old. I'm not sure how this one will display on the blog--the lines might run together a bit because of the unusual format. Enjoy, and if you do, please comment! I love to hear from you guys. Have a great Sunday.

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Closer to the Calm

mirror balls and silver crosses dangle beneath a pure white rose
while I sit within myself, imaginary black pen in my imaginary hand
spilling words that leaked through centuries into this cup I’m drinking from
faces flash past like whipped whistling wind as I dangerously stretch
between myself and my guarded fictional past
to taste for once, the truth

of course I’ve never been any good at this, these guessing games
of breaking hearts and falling tears, confusion does not sift well
through worn garments like the ones I cherish even as they unravel on me
but I’ve been chained to this chair and this desk since the day I left
and I haven’t found those answers yet
they’re in the secret drawer

control is elusive on this planet, so I’ll stop reaching for the reins
and flow with advice and signs and all the things I have sidestepped
every day I’ll get a little closer to the calm and a little further from the storm
and I’ll carry all of this with me, slowly, learning and teaching
by simply being, and loving the silence as I’m healing
and finally I’ll have patience and peace

Downpour: Another poem from the archives

Poetry and the Inauguration of President Barack Obama