Landscape, Silenced *
Isn’t it a given* that here, safe inside, alone,
I should feel encouraged to sing as loud as I want,
any song I choose, in any room I like?
Am I not the master of this domain? Can’t I
just close the drapes, proclaim my sovereignty,
ignore the planet’s disintegration, and sing?
Yet, without fail, I’m forced to seek new songs,
search for any tune but the now-familiar dirge,
attempt to recall even a single positive lyric.
I pull back curtains, open the wintered windows,
invite the frigid in to warm an even colder me.
I pray unanswered prayers for sunlit inspiration.
But every morning*, every day, remains silent.
I fail and fail again to find an uplifting tune.
There is no sadder music anywhere.
*Inspirational Touchstone: Landscape by Mary Oliver (I wasn’t very intent on using so much of Ms Oliver’s language, concentrating more on form; five tercets, the 1st two mostly questioning, a turn in the 3rd, etc.)
Poets And Storytellers United
Weekly Scribbling #52
~ Something About Mary ~