My unsettled thoughts
seem to stir in November.
I wonder, do you have
a month that you dread?
A time or a season
when angels forsake you,
to gather in valleys,
with wings to be shed.
When hope turns to sand
sifting fast through your fingers,
cascading o'er beaches
where memories still play.
Where you walked to your future,
and followed your own path,
and left your own footprints
that waves swept away.
And I wonder today,
could you swim in that ocean,
on the blackest of nights
without any fear?
And the wind on my neck
coldly curls up to whisper
in the voice of a memory,
“November is here".
10 comments:
Randy,
This is another very profound poem. It immediately brought to my mind the two months that represent for me "the best and the worst"! For years they were a source of real conflict, but time has lessened the intensity of both ends of the spectrum,and acceptance has slowly wrapped her arms around me.
What I have shared may, (actually most probably will) make absolutely no sense to you, because I may have interpreted your poem in a totally different light than it was written. But I share my thoughts because I don't think you realize how amazing your writing is...how effective and thought provoking your use of "words" is to the reader.
Keep writing, AAA
AAA:
Thank you for taking the time to read, and consider the meaning of my poem. "Profound" is a big word for a small writer’s work, and surely comes with some bias, but I appreciate your compliment very much. I think you understand the words perfectly. They’re personal, yet deliberately vague because the details are unimportant. The important part is that we all live in an annual cycle of seasons, months, and days that continually resurface as reminders of the past. The “best” days we tend to document in photo albums, and track on calendars as anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, etc. The “worst” days we try to forget, yet they are forever tethered to some other marker in our annual cycle.
The good news, as you mention, is that time and acceptance does eventually heal all …and writing helps too (I recommend it as good therapy.)
I so agree about the writing and its therapeutic benefits. Allowing my feelings to spill onto a piece of paper has gotten me through some pretty difficult times. AAA
Randy,
I hate June, July & August. Way toooooooo hot for me. I really should live in Minnesota or the Arctic. Even right now, it's the middle of November and we're having a dang heat-wave. Can't wait to go to Oregon next week, snow and rain ahead. YESSSSSSS!
I love November. It's Thanksgiving time. It's time for quiet reflection...for in depth honesty...for 'what do I really want to do with the rest of my life?' moments. In short, it's time to be thankful for what I have, and have faith I'll get what I need. HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Hugs.
Randy,
Where be ye? It's been a long time since we've heard a peep out of you.
Itsmecissy:
Many would consider a month without hearing a peep out of me to be a blessing, and not question it for fear that I might start peeping again, so thank you kindly for noticing my absence. I promise (“is that a threat?” I hear some of you thinking) to begin peeping again soon.
Good!!
AAA
yeah well you're still not peeping buddy boy! don't make the posse come to washington and rustle your ass out of this peeping coma you're in, or you'll regret it! lightly has plyers and he's itching to use them.
just sayin'!
How ‘bout that, the lights just came back on from our second power outage of the season, and the first thing that rolls out of my groggy computer is a not so veiled threat from ol’ Bobby and his East Coast Thugs. Guess I better throw something up on the blog before things get ugly ‘round here. Let’s see, what have I got in the not quite finished pile? …hmmm ... Ivy?
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