RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Time fills echoes with portents of
tomorrow.
Spinning on tiptoe through valleys
of deepening awe, astounding even
...

Etching dialogues on walls of my mind,
picturing life as it walks along
breaths of living.
...

Lengthening shadows falling across darkened corners,
giving off vibrations of being involved, secluded
from particles of existent fortunes.
...

Catching beats in rhythms of calculating endeavors,
trying to observe any sides of cognition.
Lifting melodies to soaring alcoves, reaching
outskirts of brain matter and locking all particles
...

Writing constantly on lines of abbreviation,
causing others to pause and think about what
is going on around them in seconds of
seclusion.
...

Delving into mazes, finding my way around the many obstacles in life.
At times enjoying the challenges, other times being frustrated, not wanting to go anymore.
A lifetime of sensations being perceived in split seconds of time, an amazing feat of the human mind and being.
...

Somnolently greeting me at an entrance to secondary imagination.
Grinding open slowly, peeking around the corner as tones come melting outside the doors of my mind.
Excusing nothing, delivering an open mind and allowing it entrance now to a ninth dimension.
Unfurling itself in an Arabic song filled with an ancient harmony, distancing me from an iridescent opal.
...

Shaking up many pre-conceived ideas as they fall before me, showing the truth as it is stated without any prejudice surrounding it.
Taking life with itself and sharing it with whomever will embrace it.
Closely entering suites of yesterday, brings it forward into any form of prose.
As it enters and flows from within, never looking or searching for words, because they all flow out comfortably without any pressure.
...

Recording special moments in life, researching where they are contained and choosing to select topics of reprieve.
Crumbling and falling, minds reel away from normalcy, scratching their ways to finding beautiful, attractive perceptions.
Bringing them carefully into intuition with fantastic issues of belief.
...

Stretching through a tunnel to liven up days caught alone with no way to combine participation with anyone else in town.
Cresting, falling back and forth, adjusting sentiments to fit whatever music happens to dance into beings of sustenance.
Tolling on edges, hoping to become part of an etude on a cold winter evening.
...