Poetry bypasses the norms of written language, and through the use of imagery gives expression to what cannot be expressed in literal language.
Another very beautiful attribute of poetry, as with photography, is that its meaning is not prescribed by the creator of the images. I know what I was trying to capture in the picture at the top of the post, but you will see what you see. I know what I was writing about but you will find your own meaning in these words.
So this is for you
I forget where it is that I am going
as I walk across this desert, focused on the ground I can see under my feet.
Muscles straining, one more stride, and then another
Every part of me aching from exhaustion
Mind dulled and numbed by the effort expended in staying alive
Repeating as a mantra – Keep going. Keep going.
Where have I come from?
How did I get here?
I can’t remember parts of the journey.
And the fragments I remember reflect in the hot sun;
broken shards of coloured glass
Was it beautiful where I began?
Why did I leave?
Today it’s desert.
Some days as a child transported through a wardrobe I am in meadows lit with sunshine where Aslan plays in the daisy strewn grass.
Other days it is as night – but night without moon or stars. not cold, but dark.
There have been days where I stumble upon a path that leads me through unrecognizable landscapes
And when I feel, which is not always, every part of me longs to be by the sea, but never have I woken to the sound of waves that resonates within my soul, and says all is well.
Maybe that is my destination?
Will I know when I arrive?
Am I here with others?
Sometimes I think they are with me, but often I am alone.
If I don’t understand my journey or know my destination why choose to accompany me?
Or maybe I choose for it to be this way.
But this day I may escape it.
I see a way to leave this place.
I fear that it may prove to be illusion; mirage.
Will it be what I believe it to be when I reach it, or will it disappear leaving nothing to indicate that it ever existed?
That it ever pulled me towards it.
And then I will not be here any more. I will have gone there.
I have lost my bearings.
I only know that I must journey.