i chase myself…
restless amber thoughts dancing through the corridors of my mind…
the tattered memories, threadbare, worn …are able still
to exert a vise-like grip on my heart…
doors open wherever my gaze lands -
i find the remembering like a tapestry…
woven tightly with the hues of jewel-toned joys
enriched by the texture of rugged sorrows…
…it engulfs me…this fabric..both beautiful
… and suffocating….
and still, i seek the door
that will lead me out of myself…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great job, Ann, I like this a lot, I too know the struggles and pleasures of floating in/out of myself, and I wouldn't have it any other way...and thank you for the kind words about my work, I appreciate it, and keeps me motivated to write and share more...