Category: Poetry

A Beautiful Garden

Isabelle JusticeLeave a comment

In a beautiful garden
I have this bit of serenity
The imminent feeling of being completely alone
While being close to so many

The rush of water
Chimes of tangled branches
Shadows that balance a summer’s light
A ladybug that dances
She is paused
Preparing for flight

I remember so peacefully
This feeling brings the wool around my heart
That feeling is known as comfort
Knowing I am in a world
Where nature is the music
My own, hidden covert
They will always sing
It rings so conferring
To those who have the ears to hear it

Maybe that is it – we are our own
These hidden and beautiful worlds
Only few people really know
And every time a person comes to visit
To walk amongst these complex forests
They appreciate the beauty, the exquisite
And notice all those who walked these woods before

What did they leave behind?

And what did you fail to take out?

It does not matter
Nonetheless, it stays
A beautiful garden remains

Thickets and Thorns

Isabelle JusticeLeave a comment

Through thickets and thorns
I still stand today
Through scars and songs
I’ve seemed to make my way
I give more than I should
For the vessels inside me are empty

And they say

Darling
You are the most important thing in this world
You are a temple
A God
To care for you is the priority

But
Nothing seems more vacant
Than trying to fill the well 
That has no water
For that water is nonexistent
And perishable

So I fill it with what I know

With mud and sticks
With thickets and thorns

Why did my roots hurt others so much?
My intention was good
Wasn’t it?

It was good
Through the thickets and thorns
Lakes and lilies
Death and darkness and duo
This and that

I pair so much together it seems to have leaked into my speech
I hope you find these pairs and make them 
Applicable

But I know I have found my path
And happiness is here
My roots have further to grow
And leaves are just starting
To peak through the forest’s way

I know He led me to a lake
Wells never suited me anyway

When We Meet Again

Isabelle JusticeLeave a comment

I hope when we meet again 
You can see a mecca
I have made in myself
A road
I have paved myself
Trees I have planted
And kept alive
Myself

By being myself

I hope when we meet again
You can be proud of the
Documents
I have collected in my speech 
Essays
That reflect in my skin
So many words
I have pieced together
That you can see me glowing

Maybe it’s the lighting

Or the lighting in me
That dissipated
Never quite gone
Just spread apart
As if galaxies
Were waving to distant friends
Not blinding
But merely expanding

Growing

Growing to where
I can finally see past
The vines
That held me back
For so long

I guess when we meet again
You can build thoughts of me
For yourself
And I’d hope they have changed

But it’s not to you
What I am
I guess I shouldn’t mind
The status of me
In the mind of you
In the mind of anyone

I finally fit
In this body
And want to share

Whenever we meet again

Tripwires of the Mind

Isabelle JusticeLeave a comment

I feel as if I am the space between two
A gap in the fabric sewn
Traveling a road
With traits I didn’t choose
What an embedded
Breath
We have been searching for substance 
Looking for what was promised

It’s a sudden tap on a window
You see

A bomb in a birdcage
And the brief absence
Of a conscious mind
On repeat

Stitch me one by one
Push me out to sea
As I walk among tripwires of the mind
I will count away the bursts
In the square formation
Taught to me

Wandering
Wasting
The rise I am given

Nostalgia

Isabelle JusticeLeave a comment

In an instant
Like a crack in thinning ice
I am flung into a time I had since stored away
A hidden file in my mind
Playing
Mimicking a younger self
Scratched
Shrugged
Grazing the surface of a time past
Not quite as clear
But still so crisp
That you could hear the sweet lyrics
Which were so comforting once before

Suddenly I am dancing with a previous ego
And I watch her fade away
Analyzing this time and the next
A dull ache creeps into my stomach
Seeing this younger me
My heart stays there
And becomes heavy

Just like sticky honey
With a soft residue
It leaves a mark
A dent in the wall
A crack on a screen

Again
And again

As open jars are shattered across a glass floor
They reflect a stronger
And nostalgic mind

If you choose to stare back
You can see a previous life
Fly by as quick as it arrived