Cara Colleen

Ode To A Winter Night

Cold winter night sky, you draw me
Up into the crystal clarity that seems
So far from where I am on the inside.
Even when the city lights obscure the stars
With their occasional brilliant glee peeping through,
The blackness between the bare branches
Offers an internal security blanket.
I could stare… all night…
Letting all the knots in my mind unravel
Were it not for the knots in my muscles
Fighting the piercingly chill wind.
I look down shivering,
Pulling my coat and scarf around me tightly,
Still standing still…
My unfocused eyes keep staring mentally upwards
Until I shake myself out of reverie and walk on.
Ah, winter in all its nighttime glory!
I like the bare trees standing nakedly real
Against the shallow unreality of
Man’s pomp and circumstance.
Black sky, you pull me out of the urban crunch
Into the uncluttered infinity of natural creation,
Even if just for a few moments.
I can trudge on smiling again because we touched,
You and I, dark knight sky, and shared
A peace beyond comprehension.

random thought

It’s Thursday. Spring is finally on its way. My mom and my best friend are both going through crises (one at a hospital in Phoenix with her adoptive mom and the other at a hospital here in Nashville with her legally adopted daughter). My husband is watching TV. I’m online doing school stuff (and writing this post). My kids are in Clarksville with their dad. My dad is in the Philippines. One brother is in Virginia with his wife. Another brother is north of Nashville in Springfield hanging out with his girlfriend. I’m feeling a bit at a loss and a lot scattered and very overwhelmed… But the clock is still ticking, so I guess I’ll go work on my homework. Dear Jesus, help me do what needs doing.

Are We Done Yet?

It’s nice to know I’m listened to, and read and understood–
At least that’s what they tell me all the time.
But I can think of only one who speaks his mind (and should)
That I don’t prompt for feedback on a rhyme.

I go along and write a verse or poem here and there
And put one out for people now and then,
But I have written less and wondered if my readers care.
The silence on this matter doesn’t end.

It’s sad to think that if I stopped and kept it all within,
That few or none would ever say a word.
I didn’t even realize it was bugging me again
Till one friend wrote and told me I was heard.

Now this is silly and I know I need to let it go,
Still, I’m a normal human and I hate
To learn I’ve let such feelings overflow.
I’ve let my sadness squelch how I create.

So someone speak out, talk to me, pick up the phone and call…
Should I stop with what I’ve already done?
Does what I write mean anything to anyone at all?
Or am I simply writing for just one?

I’m sure that I will keep on putting words down on a page,
But share it? That, my friends, is what remains.
There’s so much on the internet to read this day and age.
Perhaps I’m done here. Nothing’s wrong with change.

Composing

POEM