Each family member stands,
lies, balks, strides forward
at some crucial crossroad.
To hang on or let go, repair
or retreat, apologize or save
face, forgive or stay safe, trust
or protect, surrender or fight on.
I stumble through spaghetti maze,
blinded by whirling paths, stakes
life or death, uneven ground rolls,
fog masks, confuses so I struggle to
remember there is an I, a mine, a self.
I seek wisdon, vision, to penetrate mist
of helpless love and choose my own path.
Victoria Hendricks
September 17, 2010
I loved the description of 'whirling paths' that seemingly others travel. Everyone MUST be sure to follow his / her own path despite the paths of those around....well expressed poetry.
ReplyDeletethe image is very vivid and real.
ReplyDeletebeautiful poetry.
keep it coming.
Yes, the way forward may seem confused at times but there will always be a way to go.
ReplyDeleteLove these lines:
ReplyDeleteI stumble through spaghetti maze,
blinded by whirling paths
Following one's own path is so true—
Thanks for posting for me Mary, and thank you Mary, Jingle, Derrick and Linda for early and warm comments. Sorting out my own path when others have needs will always be a trick for me.
ReplyDeleteVictoria,
ReplyDeleteI love how you describe the paths here.
Pamela
spaghetti maze is apt (and a half)
ReplyDeleteGreat images!
ReplyDeletemirror at crossroads
Nice expression of your own individuality!
ReplyDelete