Poetry-Waiting for the End…#234

Living under both fugitive and gracious light, living within walls that no longer make a home.  Living with assumptions in a world that scorns.  One cannot demand love; it leaves the seeker tired and alone. The heart is no longer inspired by life; it is dead it is made of stone.

Thirst for creativity, hours to feel un-whole, feeble, no power no control.   Troubled with no rest, walking upon the fallow ground, the fields like deserts, barren no heart no soul.  Youth has gone; strength is gone, one’s foremost self-lost in the past, haunted by what went before.

No music, not even the sound from a rustic flute.  The clouds of an obsessed storm in the sky, it groans with sadness.  Visions clear, to be mute would be golden.   No cares, wandering, nomadic, living from place, to place, another plane, the way is lost. Heart-weary, harsh, a dwelling a void, silence. 

Fear and fatigue consume, will the body die. Evidence is in the stillness of a stone heart, it has grown weary and cold.  The heart beats faster and faster, like a runaway train, sweeping through the soul.  The deep cut into the soul cannot heal. The night-wind blows through a whisper of silver hair, soon it will be dawn.  The night passed slowly. 

Another day under the leafless tree, dew lays upon the body, watching the Robin looking beneath for a worm.  Fall is here and the Robin will go south, soon a cold and frothy sea of white will cover the ground.  Death is welcomed, emptiness, the trembling are now all stilled; time is winding to a close.  Ashes will soon lay upon an icy shore, waiting for the melting ice to float them away.   

2020©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Flying with Broken Wings is about the life of Charlotte Jean Murphree. Charlotte was not a famous person, in fact, not too many people knew her, but those that did knew there were many facets to her life. the book tells of fifty-two-years of daily testing of her will to carry on and the misfortune she faced. As a baby and young girl she was made fun of by schoolchildren, her progress was slow but she never gave up the fight to overcome her disabilities. As an adult, she fought Cerebral Palsy, Living with Bipolar, Depression and Schizophrenia disorders. Charlotte lived not only with herself but she endured the “Voices” that lived within her for over thirty years. This book is about her beginning, her middle and the end of her life.

8 thoughts on “Poetry-Waiting for the End…#234

      1. Sincere apologies Elizabeth. I somehow mistook you for the person (your daughter) you were writing about. I thought it was a little strange that someone should write about themselves in the past tense, as though they no longer existed, but I didn’t take the time to check what I was reading, and thus my error.

        Liked by 1 person

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