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"The colors of life shift

within a fixed parameter,

movable blocks of shadow

and light, interchangeable

or not."

"Chaos is a friend of mine." ~Bob Dylan

"Chaos is a friend of mine." ~Bob Dylan
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Monday, April 27, 2009

The Past Not Taken

This is a quirky poem I wrote sometime ago and tinkered around with the past few days. So, for what it's worth (since National Poetry Month is winding down).......

I fall back
through past chapters
of my life, slip
into a sea of change.

Fabric along the shore
feels rough and knotty and so
I pluck a thread, here
and there
a thread
to smooth the way.

And as I pull and pluck
the past flies out of kilter
slips its bounds and
slides away.

I grasp for the familiar
as, like bright balloons
set adrift
in winds of time,
they drift off and out of rhyme and place.

I have loosed the fabric of my past,
unraveled time
and space
and place,
set sail on a course
unknown and out of bounds.

There is no traveling
to the place
before I fell
into the muck with my need
to pluck, retouch and refine

what was mine in all its rough-hewn glory.

My story, it belonged to me,

and only me, a journey writ
one page at a time, one blank page
at a time, where one can only edit
in present and future tense.

Like drifting balloons
treasured faces of the past
sail away from tomorrow.
Frantically, I reach
for what has slipped away,
to no avail.

A new course
before me.

I stumble
among the paths not taken,
unfamiliar vistas, unknown faces.
With a heavy heart,
like Lot’s wife spared,
I set out blindly
in a desert of regret.

~~Pam Patterson


quid said...

I have tears. So moving.. Q

And my word verification is "mantra". More tears.

Kelly said...

This is so very sad, Sis. I think the final line is the clincher. Regret. An emotion I try my hardest to stay away from.

Marion said...

Boy, we're a pair---you're stumbling around on paths not taken and I'm stumbling on shadows. LOL! You know I love you and feel your pain. I don't think a woman alive doesn't have a little corner room in her brain where she keeps her knick-knacks of regret which she feels obligated to dust now and then.

Fabulous poem from a fabulous poet!!

Pam said...

I think the point of the poem is the old saying "Be careful what you wish for..".

Each thread of our past has a purpose. We might wish we could go back and have do-overs here and there, but, are we sure we would really want those do-overs?

We usually learn and grow more from our mistakes and missteps than from our golden moments.