A Drowning Eye
A classical poem of a struggled heart…
Destined not
alone, forlorn
Tried and fought,
and heart be torn
No sun, no moon
the dark prevails
Not now, but soon
the fates entail
Alone I stride
through darkness nigh’
A broken pride
a drowning eye
But naught I see
nor ‘er presume
this heart be free
except by tomb.
I’ve been admiring classical mid-19th century poetry recently — the likes of Emily Bronte and Dickinson… the kind that make you pause, reflect on this journey with all its joy and grace and hurt and regret. One night the pleadings from all my various tears and broken hearts over my five decades ganged up and hit me hard without notice. I sat down to capture them all, and this is what came out. By capturing them, I am also then able to set them free. I am grateful for healing by poetry, both in reading and in creating…
