August 12

Thread

Free Verse, love poems, micropoetry, Nature, poems, Poetry, Poetry & Musings, Poetry Shorts, tanka-ish

0  comments

Hello everyone;

I did say "haphazardly" participating in the April PAD Challenge. This is why day one is being posted after day two.
Day 1  prompt of "write an optimistic poem"

Not Dead Yet, Me


Is it really such a tragedy

that my sentences are raggedy

words tread together by similarity?

The conversation is still defiantly

expressions of me.


Is it really such a travesty 

that I wander aimlessly?

When I can travel through time so easily

…our life history

…a life lived outrageously.


Is it really such a disparity

that I have forgotten the melody

of your name? Still there’s some clarity….

I know the feelings of family

and passions intensity. 


Is it really such an indignity

that something once familiar is now a novelty.

Or that simple tasks escape me.

I still dance to life’s jamboree

and sing majestically.

Is it really such a finality

even as I become more absentee?

There is plenty of life in my legacy.

Don’t bother writing my eulogy,

when there’s still time to create a memory.

©2024 Delaina Miller

[av_textblock size=” font_color=” color=”]
The big storm that was heading towards us seems to have lost its aggression. Instead, the rain is varying in different degrees of light and heavy. Either way I love watching the differences. The air is like waking through a mist when the rain is at its most gentlest. When the rain is heavier the grey sky seems to take over the air filling the space with a blurry grey. But if you look in the dark places, where the trees gather and grow, you can see the raindrops individual of each other. It looks like an overcrowded population with everyone moving in the same direction.

My curious mind wonders if this is the view of an insect while under the spray of a water picture or hose sprayer? And if I can see and feel my smallness in heavy rain I wonder how an insect sees themselves in this moment. Maybe the insects are in panic mode, trying to move to higher ground and do not have the luxury of philosophical musings. But I refuse to assume they do not have a heightened awareness of their surroundings like I do. The rain has given us all the gift of awareness this morning. Thank you rain.

Thread

standing in the rain
my skin is my dimension
~ beginning / ending
my roots grounding me in place
I’m the thread connecting drops

[/av_textblock]

[av_image src=’https://delainamiller.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/thread-1030×579.jpeg’ attachment=’2847′ attachment_size=’large’ align=’center’ styling=” hover=” link=” target=” caption=” font_size=” appearance=” overlay_opacity=’0.4′ overlay_color=’#000000′ overlay_text_color=’#ffffff’ animation=’av-rotateIn’][/av_image]

[av_social_share title=’Share this entry’ style=” buttons=” share_facebook=” share_twitter=” share_pinterest=” share_gplus=” share_reddit=” share_linkedin=” share_tumblr=” share_vk=” share_mail=”][/av_social_share]

[av_comments_list]

About the author

Creator of sounds. Poet on an energetic journey with words. Explorer of Frequencies.


 

Delaina J Miller

You may also like

Not Dead Yet Me

Not Dead Yet Me

His Blue Eyed Gal

His Blue Eyed Gal

Poetry and Dementia

Poetry and Dementia
{"email":"Email address invalid","url":"Website address invalid","required":"Required field missing"}

Subscribe to my newsletter "Vibrations"!

>