Wrestling With Gray
Ribbon highways tempt with destinations,
bright electric exits without melancholy
brooding in the rear-view mirror.
I normally don’t look back,
mind rake my yesterdays
to garden good times, but
stuck in non-direction
even images of my overweight self
are sunlight on a monochrome Sunday.
Sitting at my table of wishes I watch
a cardinal through my window,
drink another cup of tea, and ponder
if a journey begins with a single step,
how do I reach Shambala by pacing quicksand?
©Susie Clevenger 2020
I was honored to have my photo as inspiration to spark poetry at The Sunday Muse.
Oh I LOVE that closing stanza......wonderful!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteYeah, I'm all about that closing stanza, too!
DeleteThanks Shay
DeleteLove the idea of raking the past into the good times to come and feel that sense of time having stuttered like a needle and skipped several verses lately. But then I started asking--is Shambala not at the top of the mountain but in the letting go into the quicksand? Is this the way that I should go instead?
ReplyDeleteEach of us has a different path in this pandemic, yet so much of it is the same in how we feel. I'm not sure how one thrives in quicksand, but I'm trying to reach higher ground.
DeleteEach line here is bright with vision even in the wrestling of what is to come. A glorious write for your amazing photography my friend! Thank you for giving us something wonderful to muse to this week Susie!
ReplyDeleteThank you. I so remember the day I took the photo. I couldn't have known the world would crash into immobile.
DeleteThe thought of being stuck and the uncertainty of the next step, heightens my senses to just take a giant leap forward.
ReplyDeleteThis: "mind rake my yesterdays
ReplyDeleteto garden good times", so good.
"how do I reach Shambala by pacing quicksand?" is a killer.
Raking yesterdays to garden good times is something I, alas, am far too guilty of... Thanks for sharing...
ReplyDeleteI love that last stanza. Thank you for sharing this photo with us.
ReplyDelete