I wrote this in 2016 when my mother died. I have come to realize that all my endeavors are neither grand nor failures, just in the middle. Here is where my worst anxiety and depression began. I look back and see I have progressed, emotionally. Alas, my poetic prowess is still C- at best.
I am adrift
My anchor gone; I am unable to captain alone…
I steer the best course I know
But still…
I strike other ships passing, doing damage
Having to stop
Having to repair, regroup
How can I avoid running aground?
Striking the rocks
Sinking this ship…
completely...
Dearest Jeannie, What a beautiful poem. I think any time we are inspired to speak out truth in a elevated and super-charged way then it is poetry and I can feel the intensity of your grief and vulnerability in your words. Please do keep writing.
I'm sorry it's taken a while for me to respond here. My husband and I have moved house and are temporarily without wifi / internet. Hopefully back to my normal responsive self later in the month.