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Tuesday, September 21, 2010

This Day

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This Day

It is the empty days like this
when nothing happens
that I realize everything
that has happened

the blood of an unending night
with the moon a mere transclucent sliver
following behind like the shadow of a stranger

there are holes in my memory
mended lovingly with stories told
over and over again
until I can almost see them
and they become my own

and yet there are always the intruders
invading the innocence of what once existed
in the very part of my soul
where laughter once overflowed

I can still see the past
Only now I can stand
in this very moment
while the world hums
turning the nothingness of this day
into everything

Angela Minard 2010©

6 Comments:

clean and crazy said...

that is a beautiful description of your soul. very lovely thoughts.

Wanda's Wings said...

This sounds like healing.

Ann said...

Absolutely lovely poem.

Poetic Shutterbug said...

Your words, Angela always capture the soul and display the true essence of you.

Paula said...

Love from my heart to yours. The core of your being is so beautiful.

Nicole said...

This is such a moving poem, Angie. You are a beautiful writer. I love your third stanza and this image is especially memorable:

with the moon a mere transclucent sliver
following behind like the shadow of a stranger


Very well done.

<3<3<3
Nicole