Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Fear of not finding the truth...

Today we are writing about fear, in any way shape or form....

Fear of not finding answers ~

I wish to be unfettered by the news 

of plague amid all manner of rumblings 
of the earth
From my helpless, hopeless feelings toward 
an angry society,
I turn only to what I know to be true, 
my experience and what is at hand

I place my pen down on the blank page of 

my notebook, where I sit on a twisted 
driftwood log, 
unable to write my life as a book, 
or any book, with beginnings, a mid-life, 
and a smashing ending.

I pluck yellow flowers, mini-spindled 

notwithstanding their deep running roots, 
growing from under 
the sand at my feet, between wood and smooth rocks 
close to the waves

I place the stems on the same page beside 

the pen in the book
as the flowers already begin to wilt
Flowers pressed temporarily inside a book, 
await rediscovery 
as I check my mind again for unfound words

How will I know how it all unfolds 
after I am gone?
Faint gull calls, a distand train whistle
ride a brisk winds to my ears
Perhaps traveling longer the path I am on
will provide answers, an easing of  my fears

I take detours through what is left of the 

forest of elegant ideas and 
unfulfilled dreams
I fear not knowing everything, the sum 
of the equation, the punch line of the joke
Is there more? Why or why not nothing else?

I build a small fire with wood shavings and

tinder gathered from the forest's dry floor 
I blow on it, hastening the warmth for cold hands
I feel a oneness come over me as 
the essence of pine penetrates my soul.


  1. I specially admire this part:

    I fear not knowing everything, the sum of the equation, the punch line of
    the joke, is there more, or why nothing else?

    I believe its okay not to find the answers or even have all the answers to all our questions. A lifetime is not enough for this journey. I think its only important to enjoy the present and continue moving on.

  2. the vivid details makes this poem extra special, most of all this line is haunting: "How will I know how it all unfolds after I am gone?"

  3. Love the pondering, introspective feel of this poem. AND that last line is fabulous!

  4. "From my helpless, hopeless feelings toward an angry society,/I turn to only what I know to be true/what is at hand."
    I can appreciate this heartfelt piece, Kathy and it resonated with me to the core. The questions about life seem to build the older I become. Unlike some, I don't enjoy the mystery. I think Grace has the best advice. :)

  5. Gayle Walters RoseAugust 3, 2016 at 9:30 PM

    This is a quiet musing on questions that many of us ask ourselves. I think that certainly we can't know everything and that this journey called life will never be "done" in the sense that somehow it will all be "complete" when we slip from these bodies. I like how you return to the present with making a fire and how the essence of pine penetrates your soul. This is a lovely pensive piece that I enjoyed...thanks, Kathy.

  6. A brisk wind carries faint gull calls; I hear the distant train whistle.
    How will I know how it all unfolds after I am gone?

    Such wonderful images here in your poem. You have raised questions which perhaps we all are seeking answers to. Lovely!

  7. Love the juxtaposition of picking/pressing flowers and seeking for words


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