Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet. ~Plato~ Click To Tweet
Ann Christine Tabaka
04.02.2018
Eyes Wide Open
Eyes wide open
I see the truth.
Eyes wide open
for once, at last.
Treasures dangled as enticements.
A fall from grace tumbles by.
Sixteen and twenty,
counting onward.
The path unclear,
the questions stands.
Hand of temptation
reaches forward,
offering forbidden fruit.
Imprisoned by my own words.
Blinders removed,
I venture inward.
Eyes wide open.
Shutters open,
transgressions escape,
flying wildly
into the void.
The dream a nightmare
pulling me in.
Freedom impossible,
I see the truth.
Eyes wide open.
Hands at the Loom
The fabric of life is a rich tapestry
It is woven on a loom of tears
Stretched the width of our knowledge
And pulled the length of our years
Nimble fingers work the shuttle
Weaving the threads of love
Through the warp of time
Threading below and above
The bobbin is wound tightly
Until our life begins
The days go by swiftly
As the spool unwinds and spins
As the cloth takes its form
It is textured with our pain
It is softened by our sorrow
Full bobbins begin to wane
The years weave a textile resplendent
With touches of silver and gold
Threads of laughter and friendship
Are a true joy to behold
Deft hands work the weft
With each pass by pass
Colorful images of our life
Becoming clear at last
The design is a masterpiece
No one could predict
Only the Master Weaver
For his plan is perfect
Storm Dance
Tall grasses begin to sway
as they dance with the wind.
Prophetic sky morphs to gray,
the storm about to begin.
There is nowhere left to hide.
The tempest sets its course.
Mighty trees bow down low
to the unrelenting force.
It rages on in torrents.
There appears no end in sight,
as fiery streaks of lightning
Split in half the dark of night.
With morning come the sunrise,
tall grasses glistening wet.
Calm once more engulfs all
the world with rain beset.
Sun Salutation
Daybreak pierces night, wiping
away the sleep. Plucking stars
from the heavens, placing them
neatly in a basket made of dreams.
Erasing darkness with amber
streaks, the sun kisses the day.
Dew drenched grasses glisten with
diminutive prism globes. Warmth
overtakes the chill as hours march on.
Clouds drift by announcing their
presence with purple shadows
crowning the land. Time has no
master while light rules the day.
Evening brings with it a daunting
stillness as it invades the glen.
A sleepy day says adieu as it
awaits tomorrow’s sun salutation.
Greeting Tomorrow
Along the path to tomorrow,
we shall meet at the bridge
that spans the unknown universe.
I stand looking off towards the sun.
Going the long way home.
No time for detours.
The crow does not fly
a straight course.
Lost along the road to nowhere,
beliefs evaporate into droplets
of disenchanted time.
Winged chariots fly off
into the sunset, taking with them
our hopes and dreams.
Liberate the thunderbolt.
Unleash the singing hands of time.
For above the clouds,
there are no more castles in the air.
Apple pie scented mornings.
Metaphors meant to be dissected.
As the road reaches another bend,
At last, home is on the horizon.
Ann Christine Tabaka
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Beautiful poetry. I loved them all because they create images in my mind.
Beautiful words, Ann. I especially liked “Hands at the Loom.” What a beautiful depiction of the Master’s Hand weaving our lives! The image this brought to mind gave me needed peace and comfort today. Thank you!