RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Speckled lights dividing sights with their diamond-shaped patterns, causing prisms to appear upon white walls in an emergency observation
room.
Shining displacedly across my mind, following designs mindfully into innate puzzles, falling into places of natural desires and being placed on many pages, blankly staring at me from under my pen.
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Falling into a ravine, not being seen by anyone, save God.
Living a life quietly, alone inside my being, where only I know what I'm thinking.
Unless I decide to share with you through my writing.
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Sidling down avenues of particular linguistics, pulling adjectives out of abstract ideas, setting them in careful array.
Attending to emotions, pushing their way through and writing down novel ideas to be creative with.
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Silently, music is listening to me, taking me on a journey into depths of intelligent beauty.
Mixing and stirring notes so they will blend with the words I so constantly write from within.
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Strengthening self through gifts of writing, music, and art, bringing to life all that I think in tangible forms of creativity.
Expressing every little idea in words, paintings, musical compositions and etudes of continued learning.
Arranging notes in measures of intellect, giving them a purpose in rhythms, flowing from my life spirit into the world of beginnings.
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Birds flying low, going around me,
letting gentle breezes ruffle their
feathers as they land in a park
filled with grass.
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Sitting in my loneliness, thinking of my best friend,
praying for her to come back into my life.
Missing her presence in my daily life, wishing she
would forgive me, because I know she's hurting and
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Open to everything, questioning it all as it appears before me in absolute finality.
A deepening silence giving me new perspectives of learning as I am led to a new form of wisdom in another dimension beyond life's comprehension.
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Special moments spent with family
are treasured in beautiful memories,
content to be what they are in the
present.
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Rings of tribute slide around, never staying still, touching momentarily, facets of another time.
Continuing their involvement in circles of yesterday, being tangible only when thought of.
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