TITLE

The Broken Path

GENRE

Literary

MEDIUM

Poem

WORD PROCESSOR

Apple Notes

NOTES

I deal with grief by writing poetry, or by creating in general. 2022 has been difficult so far as so many who are close to me have died or have had brushes with death. This poem is an experimentation with the rhyme and meter, but also a musing on what it means to live our lives in spite of death.

The Broken Path

And after all the moments break,

a time of wind and ice,

of howling rain, and earthen quake,

doth wring us out a price.

These are but our Nature’s way, 

a solemn, sunken track

to lead us from the darker gray

and winter’s wistful wrack.

Here, at last, the danger’s raced,

since seconds cracked to dust,

Muteness has the days effaced,

and choked them all with rust.

Whether steep or deep below,

the way may wind or bend,

or cover spans with empty snow,

a lifted voice can mend.

Still, we say, “’tis Nature’s way

to tread the broken path

that rids us all of summer’s day

and fills with winter’s wrath.”