RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Turning, revolving in life, seeing it pass us by so quickly.
Never being able to hold it or stop time from moving away from us, no matter how we wish for this.
Just once around life's circumference is all we're allowed in our lifetime, so we must make the best of it and use all our God-given talent to reach our purposes here on earth.
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People walking past my room as I sit here in the hospital.
Each with their own story line and pattern of life, doing what they've thought was theirs to do.
Along the way, meeting others, finding ways of doing things and getting along in their own trials and sorrows through life.
Not always finding answers, yet always searching for some reprieve from their circumstances.
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Reaching into my mind, locating feelings and sensations of childhood, grasping them in silent wonder at their beautiful
essences so still wonderfully alive and being remembered this
far along in life.
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Here in my imagination I listen to lyrics being sung in unison with rhythm's perfect tones.
Splashing my mind with precise melodies, placing exacting silence, and quieting my sorrow for times of peaceful serenity in life.
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Flowers bending and swaying in natural visions as I think of their bright colors and touches of velvet, soothing my consciousness in rhymes.
Dancing lightly, bringing many subjects to mind, wanting to be remembered in times of everlasting poetry.
Taking time to recognize all images coming forth to be seen and beautified by chosen words of comfort and sublime concentration.
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Embracing music as it fills my mind with it's exquisite tones and rhythms, becoming poems as quickly as each note is played.
Tuning out everything around me, feeling each note touch my mind with it's exciting calm and peace.
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Traveling in time tunnels,
negotiating avenues of living through suffering,
causing me to fall within on circumferences of
life's final shore.
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Loosely carrying around mental configurations, waiting to be solved and entered in cyclical times to figure out where I may belong at any given stance in life.
Calculating motives, fitting them where they'll do the most good.
Extraordinary depths of meaning fill my mind with invisible ideas, falling into step with visions being recalled to aid me in today's writing.
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Singly visiting shores of heaven, taken there by musical etudes, composing themselves as I walk along sandy oceans.
Blending with the quietness of sincere properties, not letting anything interfere.
Speaking telepathically with heavenly spirits, who are guiding and bringing peaceful interludes to calm my heart with easy-going rhythms.
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Shaking the insides of my brain, delicately giving me tones and sounds to work with as I write poems.
Trying to explain what I do is actually unexplainable and can't be attained unless I teach someone how to do it right from the beginning of their lives.
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