27 February 2014

Signs of the Unknown

She tires me out,
taking on and listing prompts
as if they were school assignments,
mere points in following-the-dots.  
Do you get the picture?

Each task is less challenge
than key to memory, which—without—
she cannot open.  No wonder
she rushes through prompts
seeking her open sesame.

Who can name what we
cannot remember?  We stumble
toward enlightenment and
let it peel us down to aha!
before we die, we pray.

Maybe it’s love? I suggest,
but, no, she often finds love
located with names and scents—
She could live in her loves.
Why not, then? I wonder.

But she continues her search
and I head home speeding
from one GPS prompt to the next
taking corners without stopping
no matter what the sign.

Maybe it's home, I think,
parking without locking, skirting 
my house in front to climb the tree 
that welcomed me.  From here I see
sunsets, sunrise and family.

Posted for Poets United Poetry Pantry # 191.

Copyright © 2014  S.L.Chast


Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh I love this, love the "why not, then?", love the speeding home to the prompt of the GPS - (my sister and I have gotten lost more than once listening to her!) I LOVE the swift ascent up the tree, to connect with sunsets, and family.

Tina said...

I don't know if it was your intention, but this spoke to me of my dear Grandmother and her Alzheimers and slowly declining years. I'd have climbed a tree if I didn't have toddlers and arthritis. Nice, personal, touching piece. Nice to meet you!
Tina @ Life is Good
A to Z Team @ Blogging From A to Z April Challenge 2014

Brian Miller said...

i think we have to ask ourselves why we do the things we do...the keys unlocking memory are not so bad, i would rather them than not...and if prompt are what it i takes so be it...i would rather hang on to the stories than lose them

thanks for stopping in susan, was starting to wonder if i was outside the circle. smiles.

Gabriella said...

Your poem made me think that sometimes we do need to rely on our inner GPS to join the dots in our lives. And, in the end, home, family and nature are what keep us whole.

Mary said...

I do think that the route to enlightenment indeed come through a lot of stumbling on the way. But when the 'aha' comes, it makes it all worth while. Sometimes we rush around and search for importance but in the end it is perhaps sunrise, sunset, and family that makes it all worth while.

Anonymous said...

I rely a lot on instinct I think my logic has totally atrophied lol

dbnidblog said...

i wudn't lie i read 3 times ur poem before i actually understood.and when i did i loved it word by word.

Susan said...

Here's the key: All people in this poem are Me. Thanks for the loving.

Natašek said...

very clever, lots of questions arose while reading it...

kaykuala said...

to climb the tree
that welcomed me. From here I see
sunsets, sunrise and family

It appears one can get assistance from things around and near us to face challenges that come our way! Nicely Susan!


Audrey Howitt aka Divalounger said...

Loved this Susan--especially how you wrap yourself toward the closing stanza--

Sumana Roy said...

so peaceful at the end....we wear ourselves out only to return to our love of life to savor every moment...

M.Z said...

Beautiful poem! Took me a try or two to get the bigger meaning of it all, but i think i got it now! :)

Unknown said...

Lovely resolution, Susan. Our journeys are complex and complicated, aren't they? Then again, in reality, it is all so simple. ;-)

WabiSabi said...

Amazing how the prompts can unlock the unconscious isn'y it! And how the muse can drag us all over town in the name of getting then 'poem.' I smiled all the way through this! Thanks!

Eileen T O'Neill ..... said...


Perhaps after all those times of thinking we need to be on a constant search for 'something else,' we reach a point of realising that the comfort we sought, was in our midst all along. That of familiarity. That of home:)


Unknown said...

All our works at the end unfold our instincts and how we react... Nicely done Susan .. :-)

rallentanda said...

I took this to mean using poetry as a journal for your memories and experiences. Churning out poems making the prompts fit your life. Poetry is the tree from where you can see everyting.