The chasm between Depression and living Can be a world Where Every heartbeat Measures a step Forward or behind. There Is no catching up Only characters speaking Lines unrehearsed; Smiles Borrowed from clowns Who laugh upon call Of immense misfortune. Unseen The stars wield Bright, unfiltered light Yet denied sight, hope Sky Naked, lost, love departed, But reaching again Capturing through will Enough To rearrange depression Reclaim hope, dreams, Love, in particular, completion.
The dog is not about the rain. Miserable brown oval lakes accuse me of cruelty. For the raindrops fall, she sudden stops, still and quaking, shakes from nose to tail. I am unwilling this walk to take, but duty tethers me. She cannot count the scents for cover of water; slick it leaves her empty. She tucks her tail, turns, trots me to the door. I warn her, in vivid terms, not to make a deposit in the floor, but does it go beyond her flying nun orifices for understanding? I doubt it; stubbornness is her template. She is that dog, glimpsed, my heart forsook reason, had to adopt, immediately. Love names her mine; pain asks me why? The dog is not about the rain.
Some said there was not Any way it could work out Too much at stake, about A zillion ways to go wrong, But hope stood by in support. The ideas seemed solid, right, No one could stop what began Not one found, as an also-ran No guarantees but love, delight, Laser-lighted heart and mind. Could it happen? Would it be? Might the practice succeed? Should impossibility thrive? Naysayers did not a defense rally, Many tried to end opportunity. All hours, days, months, years Progress delivered with salty tears, Mistakes, failures, dead stops Such negativity bore down a lot; Somehow creativity survived, a poet Poetry unleashed – becomes the poem.
Prompt: What is your experience of creativity? Is it always cheerful and pleasant, or does it sometimes come when it lifts your mind from depths of darkness? Create something juxtaposing the good and bad parts of your practice.