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
Dora said…
Beauty, light, joy: your creative prowess make these shine bright, Susie, with hope for all who read. *thank you*
November 13, 2024 at 4:41 PM
hedgewitch said…
Rereading this, I find it even more poignant both as gardener and writer. We can let our eyes be blinded by the always recurring blackness, or we can keep our candles lit while we look for the sun that brings life to all living things. Beautiful piece, Susie.
November 14, 2024 at 8:28 AM
Helen said…
Indeed you have painted your spirit with poetry .. found your voice in ink .. this is gorgeous.
November 14, 2024 at 9:58 AM
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