Tulips in Broken Glass


It is no longer the time of tulips,
yet they bloom in my thoughts
dispelling the gloom of January.

Doom can be a vase of terror,
black ribboned vessel of sorrow,
but I have chosen spring.

Just like the carnival colors of tulips
push their way through winter’s skeleton
I will paint my spirit with poetry.

On my bookshelves poetry speaks
before I touch it, whispers courage
to find my own voice of ink.

The fractured glass of grief is familiar,
still even a broken mirror can reflect
hope when verses erase the gray in my eyes.

No matter how small the light is, I can still grow.


©Susie Clevenger 2024



 

Comments

Fireblossom said…
Very uplifting and dare I say courageous, Susie. We are all going to feel rather out of season for the foreseeable future, I think, but we can do our best to make poetry out of the shards.
November 10, 2024 at 3:53 PM
Mary said…
It is good that we have poetry to read and to write in these difficult times, Susie. Though sad, your poem has a hopeful note.
November 10, 2024 at 5:41 PM
Sherry Blue Sky said…
The fractured glass of grief is such an apt image, my friend.
November 11, 2024 at 8:25 PM
Carrie Burtt said…
I agree with Shay your poem is courageous Susie. Powerful and beautiful poetry my friend!
November 12, 2024 at 8:13 PM
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