The World I Knew

The membranes of my daydreams
are sliced into many worlds.
I long to unleash their dimensions.
The promise of utopian living
to invoke an idyll spell
at least for another first world poem.
But suffering and tribulations
are found in the universal
truth of things.
There’s a stark depth to our world.
I can write spring but it
still comes out as winter.
I’d like to articulate a carefree
dialogue, but the latest atrocity
played out on CNN worries my brain.
I open my eyes to the truth
and those other dimensions disappear.
There’s no rearranging the clouds.
The wind will still come
rushing through the trees.
The rain relentless.
Still we somehow rise against
the downpour.
Knowing there’s still time to distinguish
between the pellets pinging
against the roof and the air.
We must become a meteorologist
of compassion, benefactors
of the unseen light
while there still time
to change the hour.

Tosha Michelle 


60 thoughts on “The World I Knew

  1. This is a tragic anniversary, which you have captured with heart and soul. I love the end, and the met meteorologist of compassion, what an incredible phrase, which I will remember for a long time. I like the group and song as well. Best wishes and blessings, Charles.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I absolutely love this. I love how the feeling of hopelessness gives way to hope even in the face of mounting oppression.

    The promise of utopian living
    to invoke an idyll spell
    at least for another first world poem.

    Amazing line Tosha. It really makes me think.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You are welcome. I’ve read your work before and we have interacted before as well. I thought I was following your blog already but I apparently was not. I am now. Thanks for having me here.

        Liked by 1 person

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