Jena T

Jena T Nov 2019

From a window in the dark I watched a lonely meadowlark.
It flit and it flew from every branch that grew.
Carrying stories of all my worries.
It livened and it knew of every thing my heart had ever sewn.
In grief and in joy it plucked my tender strings never playing coy.
Singing sweet songs of hope and weeping of times when I was left a hollowed corpse.
It danced in merriment and marched in vile contempt.
Some branches bent to its weight while others never dipped to my fate.
We are all watching in the dark the mysterious workings of the heart.
They kindle and stoke a temptuous fire that will set the soul alight.
Bringing even the strongest to their knees, we are all watching, can't you see?
Watching the lone meadowlark whisper our stories to the trees of all we have ever loved and grieved.

#heartache

Jena T Nov 2019

Journey of the night.

I float in this empty ocean staring up at the night sky.
Hearing the whispers of my mind. Knowing I’m not home for every star is foreign in this life.

I watch the moon travel by.
It speaks of tales and woes it’s seen in every bright night.
I ask why it travels this lonely path.
It does not answer but keeps watch of me as it passes by.

This dark sky.
With little pins of light.
Circles over.
Ever night.

I float in this quiet ocean.
Rocked by gentle waves.
Watching the sky.
Searching for some distant light.
Because it's always night.

Hearing the whispers of my mind as the sky drifts by.
“How do you cry?” one asks and it clouds the sky.
Blocking the stars and leaving me to float in this dark night.
Sometimes the waters roughen, and I clench my eyes.
Remembering the stars of a different sky.

Here I lie.
Gazing up with each eye.
Every care drifting below the currents of this place I reside.
Pondering the silence as I wander by. Knowing somewhere the dark sky knows my kind.
And waits for when I no longer deny that this sky is not mine.

— The End —