poetry – Page 103 – Picking Up Roots

Worthless Worry

another sleepless night
spent staring into 
darkness' shadows
searching for the ambrosia
to ease a mind
overused in worry
of so many issues
beyond its reach -
     too high a price
     for too little return

Weighted Page

I scream my fears at the page,
its blank surface
soaks up the ink of my doubts,
it absorbs my rage,
it gives nothing back,

its gift
is the place
where I ease the weight
of these burdens
I have chosen to carry

Racing Time

I have faced what looms -
come to terms with its possibilities -
I have accepted what my come -
it will come to us all in time -
still, I feel its weight,
an impossible boulder
carried between the shoulder blades
weighing us down
in our race against Time;

it is a race we cannot win,
even so,
I would have you run with me,
a few more miles,
please