Where is the clarity
that once was me?
I held it firmly in my grasp
only hours ago.
My mind is a blur
and the world a whir
of inconsistent incongruity
of poorest quality.
Free falling I grope
for the elusive rope
of sanity that defined my
purpose in living.
The world seems to be
of low to medium quality,
although with every breath I
whisper words of hope.
My mantra now and always
“Seek your joy in all the days”
for each could be the last
you’ll know its gifts.
Of late I’m feeling older
as humanity grows colder-
a pale reflection of myself
without direction.
Doppelgängers, she and I,
in battle for the me and my
that guide ourselves
into our destiny.
Medium defines it well
as far as either one can tell.
We patiently observe and wait
for wonderful to slay the Awful beast.
Then, arising, we devour
every new and waking hour-
a Phoenix from the ash of
dark and dour.
CKP copyright words and image
2020
Today’s post is in response to Linda Hill’s prompt ‘medium’