For Poets United Verse First poetry prompt: Close To The Source
Latest conversation causes swirling whirl
of storm clouds to hover just above
Sleeping memories startle awake to crash
of thunder, as images from past flash
like lightning strikes too close for comfort.
Want to fling arms over head, duck and run,
but know from previous confrontations, can’t avoid
getting drenched in owned experiences.
Remember how my mother used to light a candle
when darkened clouds shadowed outside world,
finding small relief in its flickering flame of fragile courage.
Pick up pen and paper, knowing words are only wick
that might enlighten this inner turmoil. Might become
woolen shawl wrapped around shuddering shoulders.
Words fall like fat raindrops spattering cement patio,
leaving marks that define whatever they encounter,
creating soothing rhythms that promise rest when
verse is completed. Emotional storm will have passed,
and landscape, now revitalized and freshly scented,
will be seen through reawakened eyes.
Elizabeth Crawford 7/24/13