Rescued Stars in a Moonless Sky
Ricocheted, Crocheted Poetry
The echoes that keep you awake at night. Thoughts bounce and ricochet, but it’s all in your mind. Every whisper — of every uninspired moment — falls on deafened ears, raising questions seldom answered — poking the brain with more questions and illusions that ricochet in vicious cycles like quivering grey shadows and perplexing mind games.
If a tree topples in the forest — does it ricochet — and make a sound
when there is no one else around?
And why do we desperately try to fit in — like a square peg into a hole that’s molded round?
Does every bit of every atom — shatter — when someone breaks your heart?
How hard is it to bounce back? Do you play with splattered words — or do they mess with your head, elude you and ripple up and down your spine — leaving you feeling unabridged and undefined?
And so, words ebb and flow — just as time erases memories long gone or makes them stronger — like an internal algorithm or a search engine that queues the brain — to distort and control the revolutions of the clock and the setting of the sun.
Buds sprout green from tree limbs — and the edges of the fertile path leading down the lane. Time moves ahead —like a coroner — and the snow drifts are forgotten as the dislodged mind ricochets the sweetness of warmer seasons yet to come.
Bouncing back — resilience of the mind. But can you connect the dots
as easily as rescued stars — that ricochet in a moonless sky?
Grace notes: Inspired by J.D. Harms and Scrittura’s magnificent writing prompt: Bouncing Back/Ricochet.
© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.
