RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Rising tides, whipping my mind with different thoughts in life's abject emptiness.
Woefully crying, holding hands cupped in prayer, knowing there'll never be any answers for me to hear.
A fruitless endeavor, hoping for more time together, yet I try to get it to come about in unending prayers cried from my interior heart and being recited by my mind tonight.
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Tracing tears down the window panes of my mind, knowing that there's nothing to assuage or wipe them away.
Living a life in a hazy mist with nothing to erase the sadness covering my sight.
Looking out tear-stained windows, no reprieve in sight, all visions breaking through have no reasoning of why I'm hurting.
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Riding through the dusk, singing to nature as I pass through forests of pine trees on horseback.
Realizing the pictures that have formed within my mind have been traced from the photographic screens of my memory - past, present and future.
All of them living now in poems that I have written.
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Slowly floating downstream in a gondola of my mind, dreaming of being maneuvered down watery streets of Venice, Italy.
Feeling the romance in the ripples of the water as the long oars pulled us through the avenues of long lost love through imagination.
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Coming closer than ever to becoming a spirit in this world, wandering earth in a joyful happiness, helping anyone who needed help.
Instead, still being alive, finding ways to help others in the here and now.
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A song being sung that a friend of mine always used to sing.
Full of energy, smiling the whole way through it, laughing as she'd change some of the words to get a chuckle from the audience.
Missing her insidiously, wishing she were still alive so we could get together and talk while cooking and listening to music.
Life leaves us so bereft when death takes our friends of life away in hidden whispers sent from heaven.
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Strutting into walkways of yesterday's embrace, I am silenced by the image of us together while you lie upon your death bed.
Not knowing what to say or do, holding your hand like it was a life line to heaven.
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Children running onto the dance floor as a disco ball rotates above, throwing little lights around the room.
Landing on the youngsters, they begin jumping and twisting in rhythms of their own, not caring what anyone thinks of them.
They're just into themselves dancing, having fun without television or electronic games.
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Recklessly streaking down coveted lanes in life's strident depths, wanting to travel alone and independently of anyone or anything.
Calmly accepting the acquiescence of trials in this time, as aging periods of all beauty is situating itself in my way.
Avoiding the obstacles, tackling them when unable to, with a gentle stubborness held within my Sicilian heart.
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