Shadowed Soul

Shadowed soul
Darkest night
Who can bring me
Back to light

Long days
Heart aches
Tears fall
Dawn breaks

Alone.

Cherice Montgomery, November 21, 2007

Why can't they?

(Note: The poem will make much more sense if you click on each individual photo--or save yourself the trouble and view the slide show.)


It started with half-formed thoughts.

Celestial scribbles . . .

. . . smeared with cosmic paint on the canvas of her mind.

Until, with a sudden flash of inspiration,

powerful ideas

ignited possibility.

A concept exploded into existence,

producing cosmic confetti

that filled her soul

with light.

Why can't THEY?

Why CAN'T they?

WHY can't they?

Feel the fire?

See the exquisite entities emerging from the flames?

Hear the harmonies?!

Perhaps it is a question of perception?

Maybe her scintillating conversations . . .

. . . are inconsequential specks to them?

Maybe her galaxies . . .

Are their fuzzy poodles?

A post that ends with a poodle doesn't impact the reader with much of a bang, does it?!

Or even a sizzle, really! :-(

More like a fizzle, if you ask me!


















Poem & Photos by Cherice Montgomery - July 7, 2007

Who?

Who do you tell your heart to when the sun sets on your day?

Who do you share your mind with when ideas leap and play?

Who do you bare your soul to when heartache cracks it like dry earth?

Who do you reach for with your eyes to tell you what you're worth?

Cherice Montgomery, April 2007

The Mosaic

In a flash of torrential trauma
Words intrude--
Hard, jagged edges
Ripping into her reverie,
Puncturing her peace,
Shattering her soul.

Stunned,
she stumbles,
then stands
sloshing, slogging,
through painful puddles
of gray grief

until sunshine emerges—

Evaporating
the wailing wind
into a weak whisper . . .
"Seek safety . . . in the shadows!"
it sighs,
. . . solace within the shards!"

They sparkle
in the scintillating sunlight
she collects—herself—
Colors connect,
catalyzing
catharsis.

—and energy expands

Filling the void
with multiplicity,
Mixing media
Restores reason
and roundness
to a Still Life.

Cherice Montgomery, October 8, 2005

The Color of Joy

Some impressions are so indelible that no matter how many waves crash against the shores of the soul and no matter how much time passes, they do not disappear. The words, "Joy, like the color purple, is everywhere. You just have to look for it!" were like that for her.