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| Tree Silhouette by Peter Griffin |
Her heart lies
Wounded and withering
From near fatal
Blows of mourning,
Languishing in darkness
For too many years,
Too many tears.
All seasons pass
With the turning
Of the calendar page,
But time crawls more slowly
With every loss,
Her hope dormant and waiting
For the next season to begin.
~~~ This was written for the Poetry Jam prompt of “endless seasons” or "change of season."
9 comments:
Yes, sometimes even though calendar season changes other 'seasons' - such as the season of grief - continue on. I have experienced the same, and sometimes these seasons are hard to shake.
You definitely did not sink into cliche land here! Time does indeed move more slowly in these kinds of seasons--season of grief. Well done!
Grief is definitely the longest season. I really resonated with this poem. Thank you!
i like that it is just dormant...and not dead...because there will be other seasons...grief though is hard...and so different for everyone...nice write mary
dormant. That is a great way to put a prolonged grief. This really is heart wrenching. (hope is tucked away, though, in the middle)
A sensitive treatment of grief and its seemingly endless season. Lovely.
Beautiful poem... I like the hope though despite the tears and loss.
I really like this poem, a sense of the hopelessness we all feel as we try to stop time from taking each breath away. Every second the changing season gets closer. Really well done.
this is stunning, Mary! it really resonates with me because i was alone and hurting for over twenty years, but i was fortunate to find love again at age 59 ~ my next season has begun. {smile}
♥
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