The Uninvited
57
They wind their way
Spiraling through my chest
Twisting inside my gut
A heavy tangled nest
Some catch me off guard
Like stray rain drops
Dumping from trees
Without forethought I wince
Others come over me
At first a mist easily shrugged
But thickening to a fog
That distorts all perception
They are not me
Yet they are here in me
I am no longer joy, no longer light
Weighted beneath what
I can not see
Defeated I will carry them
With providence to the land of dreams
But what happens there
A mystery, I shan’t recall
Perhaps lost in my subconscious
Unraveled by my Id
Drowned in my healing stream
Or flown by angels back to source
Maybe spirit guides lose them in the woods
Or simply paradoxical, disolve on their own
But when I wake tomorrow
I know I’ll be alone
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Very mysterious , and yet I pull something from between the lines. I love it.
Hi Debbie. Not sure that I should be glad about that.
Greetings ahorseback. I don't mean to be cryptic; I speak metaphor as a second language.
You should give metaphor as a second language classes :)
Nicely built poem with a universal theme. Thank you
Thanks for visiting Tom. You could teach those classes also.
I'd be first in line for those metaphor as a second language classes. This is some deep stuff, and I love every line of it.
I struggle with the feelings of dispair and memories that I thought I'd overcome long ago. This poem speaks volumes to me.
Thanks for publishing it.
Hey sorry I missed this WB. If it speaks to you I'm pleased. If it leads you to healing of any kind I am more so. Thank you for reading!
So, so beautifully crafted, Patricia. I'm going to share this with some of my friends. I have a lady friend who writes well herself and she is going to be overwhelmed by your talents.
Thank you TL. You are too sweet to me!
Debbie 13 months ago
oh, how I understand this..