Sunday, February 8, 2015

The Sunday whirl/Instilled in My Being


Instilled in My Being

beginning of February       tumbled out of bed           found a too early spring morning

left on my door step                still winter              but you would never know                           

 the sun shinning          the weather warm            against my skin                

wounds still visible               erupt when least expected               spill tears            

water the dry and thirsty earth                a mournful cry emitted       

the song of a sad clown          wrapped in fleece         sheep's clothing

from sorrow                   you cannot hide          your white image                                   

gives you away                  against the night                        your destiny sealed             

held in a tumbler of glass                      drink your fill

you long for what is no longer your's              your heart has broken 

burst to a million pieces                               no sound can comfort 

only the distant sea              with all it's promise          your loss instilled in my being 

i call your name                                                    hoping you will return



February 8, 2015



18 comments:

flaubert said...

Annell, this brought me to tears. I too noticed the flowers blooming this week. That is where the opening line from my poem came. In fact, that is the variety of succulent plant I have growing in my yard, "Cinnamon Rose". Everything continues changing and developing while we still grieve.

Love,
Pamela

Audrey Howitt aka Divalounger said...

Such a deep and moving piece Annell--it brought loss inside and turned it in my gut

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Yes, the beginning of another spring will bring that grief begun last springtime. I know that feeling, "hoping you will return." Perhaps hardest of all to bear in springtime.

Brian Miller said...

i hope that as the season turns new life buds in you...
though this loss is one i imagine you will carry with you over time...
though maybe you can begin to see things that remind you of him
and make you happy....

brudberg said...

The season bring those reminders of the past.. so heavy when spring comes with tidings of sorrow...

ZQ said...

Excellent Piece!
ZQ
ps: I had to use the address you left in the PUnited section to get here... and I was pleased I did so :-)

Mary said...

Your feelings of loss are palpable in this poem. May your wonderful memories sustain you through difficult times; and may you find comfort in the hope that you will meet again.

(I fixed your link.)

C.C. said...

Yes, wounds do erupt in grief when we least expect it....from that bottomless well of loss that is instilled inside of us.....you have captured this so tangibly!

Unknown said...

I continue to appreciate the manner with which you work this form, Annell. the message here is emotional and strong; and for likely very different reasons, could be my story. So glad I read you today.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Wow, you did a lot with a few words, mapping the sad journey from the hopefulness of early signs of spring, through heartbreak, and back again to a fragile hope.

Cathy said...

Just love reading your poems when you lay them like this. Because I sometime read them going up and down. Always find another poem in it.

Susan said...

Loss, loss clearly envisioned in the empty and broken glass of time. I love late spring, though, when it is clear that something is also gained.

Anonymous said...

Love that format, Annell. Sad, lovely piece.

Jae Rose said...

When the thing we long for is out of reach..or gone..the pain is so great...i can hear it..and it should be heard..without question or justificaiton xo

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

Calling the name of the loved one, hoping for his return, and knowing that it will not be...the sorrow is overwhelming.

Anonymous said...

Only one word came to mind: forlorn, and the deepest desire to reach out and hug you,

Elizabeth

Gen Giggles said...

Waiting for the return that may never come. Great poem.

Amrit Sinha said...

This is so profound ... how often we wish for our call to be answered ... very heart touching.

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