My inner poet is spreading her wings

I was walking home from the shops last week — a familiar outing these days — feeling buoyant, daring to think that there might have been a slight improvement in my stamina, when that now-familiar thing happened: someone/something put the brakes on. It’s the weirdest feeling.

And in that moment, the beginnings of a poem longer than haiku came to me. I chanted the lines all the rest of the slow way home, to remember them, and have been working on the poem every day since.

I do think there’s a slight increase in my physical and cognitive stamina —hooray! — but the shroud still descends at unexpected moments, without warning.


Beneath the shroud

it descends
like a gravity-loaded
gossamer shroud
stalling my walk
fogging sensory
my brain-induced

medicos mull
order tests
send me for

issue a clean bill of
mental health

we are rare
of brain stem stroke
every one
uniquely damaged
plotting a solitary trail
along unmappable
gullies and cliffs

yet beneath the shroud
light-filled moments
merge with
inner radiance
and each slow step
plants a miracle


This entry was posted in Poetry, Post-stroke recovery, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to My inner poet is spreading her wings

  1. Avril says:

    Yay for the spreading of wings, and longer treasures than the haiku gems already found. Such lucidity and precision revealed when the brain-fog lifts – wondrous. Thank you, Desney. xxx

  2. selena says:

    Beautiful Des, *you* are radiant in this new burst of light, and I am breathless at the beauty of this poem. xx

  3. Laura Mooney says:

    keep sharing those slow steps 🙂

  4. Sandi says:

    Wow. That’s really beautiful Desney. Thanks for sharing your little rays of light.

  5. FoxC says:

    HI Desney love it, awesome feeling when you can turn dARKNESS INTO LIGHT.

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