My vessel empty,
dark,
tangled up in blue.
My interior landscape,
desolate,
the sound of the wind echoes
through.
Days when I am the wreckage,
days when I am the storm.
Standing in mid-life,
the memory of the chaotic past
floats in and out of my thoughts,
like a colorful buoy
faded by the sun;
the color drained as
the elements seized
without mercy.
The scars have faded
but resurface
like a letter for additional postage.
Truth gnaws like a dog on a bone,
I choose to swim against the tides.
The erosion on my shore
only felt by me.
The mind battles the clutter,
while the illusions are mourned.
Tangled up in blue,
a light in the distance,
is the beacon,
to the answers,
to the possibility
of tomorrow.
This is vivid, and visceral: Truth gnaws like a dog on a bone
ReplyDeleteWell done.
Thank you!
Delete"I choose to swim against the tides." Yes, sometimes this is just what we need. If going with the flow wouldn't do us good, better swim against the tide. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks!
DeleteMidlife is a hard (and long) period. Much to do, but still a time to find your ways... and takes time to realize that there are no beacons to follow but that other look for you to be the lighthouse.
ReplyDeleteYes!
DeleteOf course we ought to look forward to the possibility of tomorrow. Dawn lives there.
ReplyDeleteTrue!Thank you.
DeleteI like the way you have used Dylan's words 'tangled up in blue', which evoke a desolate interior landscape so well. Your poem is full of sensual imagery: the sound of the wind, the visual wreckage and stone and, especially, the simile 'like a colorful buoy / faded by the sun'. I love the way you write about resolve:
ReplyDelete'The scars have faded
but resurface
like a letter for additional postage';
'I choose to swim against the tides';
and
'Tangled up in blue,
a light in the distance,
is the beacon,
to the answers,
to the possibility
of tomorrow'.
Thank you, Kim.
DeleteVisceral and vivid, Ayala. Could feel the pulse of this poem. xo
ReplyDeleteThank you, Rudri. Xo
DeleteSure have to make your own path many a time or end up getting sucked out to sea.
ReplyDelete"The mind battles the clutter,
ReplyDeletewhile the illusions are mourned."...loved this line
Thanks!
Delete"Days when I am the wreckage,
ReplyDeletedays when I am the storm."
So true.
Yeah....
DeleteBeautiful and poignant. "...The scars have faded / but resurface / like a letter for additional postage...". Such a great simile!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteGreat, sensuous imagery! Enjoyed the poetry very much.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Delete"floats in and out of my thoughts,
ReplyDeletelike a colorful buoy
faded by the sun;"
Especially LOVE this image.
The aging process.....sometimes it is indeed like floating with the past before you.......thinking of what was. The challenge is to stay afloat and enjoy the present, looking forward to the morrows.
Thank you!
DeleteI can really identify with the feelings expressed in your poem. Great similes, too.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jen.
DeleteSometimes a person just has to swim against the tide!
ReplyDeleteYes!
DeleteBrave and beautiful write, dear Ayala - especially liked the line:
ReplyDelete"Days when I am the wreckage,
days when I am the storm."
Great!
Thank you kindly!
DeleteLovely, lovely piece...yes it is like that...sometimes. The letter returned for lack of suficent postage.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Annell.
DeleteLiving does tend to shake things up...
ReplyDelete:)
DeleteLovely to read it once again Ayala.
ReplyDeleteThank you,Sumana.
DeleteWonderfully worded, a pleasure to savor!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Deletethose years can be challenging - working my way through a book right now to find healing for some things of the past and be able to head lightly and with new vision towards the future - it's rewarding..
ReplyDeleteWonderful writing, Ayala. I especially love your closing lines.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sherry.
DeleteWhoa! In the key of G... I do hope things get better :)
ReplyDeleteZQ
Thank you!
DeleteSometimes we must try and swim against the tide!
ReplyDeleteYes...
DeleteI like the way that you have reflected here.....I feel as if, in this poem, you are working through something.
ReplyDeleteThank you and yes...
DeleteThank you for this well written motivation.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteDays when I am the wreckage,
ReplyDeletedays when I am the storm... well said.. I think most people can relate to that as they wait for the sky to clear.
Some days are a challenge.
DeleteCrossing the ocean of our life, we are bound to hit every kind of weather and circumstance...
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
yse....
DeleteBeautifully layered and nuanced. You have articulated the 'way' (that often takes us against the tides) through inner turmoil to "the possibility
ReplyDeleteof tomorrow" - with insight and depth.
Thank you, Wendy.
DeleteTruth gnaws like a dog on the bone is my favourite image in this poem
ReplyDeleteLovely thoughts about those "waves" in life. Hopefully, we can all see that light in the distance.
ReplyDeleteHopefully...
DeleteI love the image of a letter send back for postage due...and those colorful bouncing buoys!
ReplyDeleteI liked the comparison of scars reopening to a letter coming back for more postage. I also liked the contrast between being the wreckage or the storm causing the wreckage.
ReplyDeleteAgree with others that he postage line is wonderful. Good poem, Ayala!
ReplyDeleteI like this Ayala. It captures completely the feeling of being at six's and seven's without many answers, falling back on one's memories for something to compare it to, then finding a litany of similes only to realize sometimes it's only patience and hope that one can cling to in torrent of tumultuous times! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteI like that beacon of light and hope at the end ~ Hope you are well Ayala ~
ReplyDeleteThank you, Grace.
Delete