The year feels shattered–
a frozen folly
disintegrated into pieces without
ever beginning.
It pulls me apart
when I try to hang on–
not exactly dying, although
death lingers in the spaces between—
endless hurricanes
spinning out lightning
starting fires everywhere–
a frenzied weariness,
soaked to the bones
with endings that refuse
to complete themselves, but linger
on and on and on and on…
Who has hidden the seeds?
who has broken the wheel,
drawn fault lines in the seasons?
Return seems distant, only a dream,
a feeling, a fleeting image
of blues and greens–
light and new birth,
the shimmering moon reflected in the sea.
For the dVerse prompt of folly, suggested by Jade Li.
Once again, art from the archives. And that song has been playing in my brain.
K. 
The year as metaphor for the life of the planet. Who has hidden the seeds, indeed? At least there’s hope in the last stanza, and a beautiful hope. Sounds like the voice of the Oracle breaking in.
LikeLiked by 3 people
I thought so myself.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I love the surreal imagery by word and painting complementing one another. Beautifully captures the never-ending quality of these times but finally lit with expectation of coming “blues and greens.”
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Dora. We are all holding on to those bits of light.
LikeLiked by 2 people
So many questions with so few answers. A beautiful, but sad poem.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Freya.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your painting and first verse capture the essence of this incredible year!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks Lynn. We will remember it for a long time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This year is the worst I can remember…yet it seems like we can make a new set of choices.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope so Bjorn.
LikeLike
This year certainly feels disjointed, like waiting for the other show to drop, then another, and another.
That song made a certain 15 year-old do some heavy thinking when it came out.
And now I have a hankering to watch Metropolis again.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I don’t know what made me think of it again. I’m sure I haven’t heard it since I was a teenager as well. But now it’s playing in my mind as an echo of these times. And yes, great video too.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Kerfe, your poem sings the truth like a funeral bell tolls. Those glimpses of blue and green on the sea by moonlight are what keeps me going. That and my faith in the cyclicity of things. This has been an abnormally long cycle, which cannot be denied, but there is no doubt that this dark cycle will be ending. God is merciful by placing the moon in the sky for us to see her spotlight on hope. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope you are right Jade. As dark as it seems, I can’t give up hope. The moon is always a beacon fir me too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow this whole post resonates with the frustrations of this year 2020. I especially love the art you create in the collage at the end here is wonderful. Great job!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Rob. I am very anxious about the election. I hope I am wrong…
LikeLike
Interesting. And agreed, Jane Dougherty.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Bela. Jane is always worth listening to.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love that first stanza. I feel like we are all hanging off cliffs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We are. Hopefully we don’t go all the way down.
LikeLike