A Prairie Sky’s Truth

Sometimes seeing things differently is mental illness; sometimes it’s seeing things differently.  A show I was watching at the suggestion of a person who is increasingly important to me portrayed that in an interesting bit that I have attempted to put into poetry below.

Bryn Oh's Lobby Cam - Windmill On A Golden Wheatfield

A Prairie Sky's Truth
by Michael Romani

Some things in life invite us to be stronger
Putting these into perspective a little longer
We hold onto those that free our minds
Clinging to questions of truth, hoping to find

That melody we hope will always play
Hope found in the words we find to say
With eyes as blue as the prairie sky
We find a new home there in you and I

Until deep disturbances in our sleep
Delusions, illusions and truths we keep
Finding our truths fail our expectations
It's hard to move forward in anticipation

Society chooses to over medicate
All of those we find we cannot mediate
Numbing their senses of who they are
AS we kid ourselves into thinking we've not gone to far

In treating those who are different
Preferring science to being reverent
But in none of this do we find answers
And still mental illness grows like cancer

Try as one might to drown out the dreams
There are those still waking to silent screams
Until they reach the tunnel's ending light
Praying for some way to make it through the night

Twenty one waxed candles shining bright
The return of a blind girl's sight
A love lost that life has returned
In all of these signs, these are lessons learned

If only a person could just disappear
Putting behind all pain of the passing years
Where then would that person go
But to those things that help her grow

(c) April 1, 2019  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved

Sol Farm - Dead End of A Wheat Field




About alohapromisesforever

Writer, poet, musician, surfer, father of two princesses.
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