Poetry – Page 79 – Picking Up Roots

A Reminder

I'm alright;
as violent waves crash
upon the mind
the air grows thick
in the midst of the storm,

I am the rock
amid the turbulence -
unmoved, unbroken -
I will come through this
as I have before
and will again:
weathered with experience,
but still here;

to be constant
to be steady
is all

Aspirations

if some day
I become half
of what I've aspired to
in these words -
or a tenth
of those who've made me -
I will consider this life
well-lived;
until then
I am nothing

Hazy Moon

a hazy crescent moon
burns out its last tired light
in dawn's awakening sky;

what did it see
while our eyes were closed,
what caused its lines to blur,
did it burn brighter
to light someone's way;
what sapped its strength,
will it return stronger tomorrow;

so many unanswered questions
lie in the darkness
of night