Cancer Drains, Love Remains
©2024 Susan Noyes Anderson
Getty images GptOZO on Unsplash
A quiet room, a sterile room,
cold womb for the unwilling.
I sat there feeling quite alone,
my cup of sorrow filling.
Writing “life lessons” poems is one of the ways I connect with and learn from life. They help me move myself through the inevitable ups and downs with as much grace as possible. And what better way to find grace than in the words of a poem? Thank you for gracing me with your presence here, and don’t forget to send a request my way before using my life lessons poems. (Please include full copyright information on every copy. For internet use, a link back to the poem on this site is required.)
FINDING THE POEM YOU WANT: As you scroll through this section, read each snippet sample (usually the first four lines) to get a feel for the poem. When you find something you like, click “CONTINUE READING” to view the entire poem.
A quiet room, a sterile room,
cold womb for the unwilling.
I sat there feeling quite alone,
my cup of sorrow filling.
It’s good, sometimes, to recognize
your fear and give it space,
to realize what’s eating you
so you can give it grace –
to walk into the jungle’s lair
with eyes wide open, knowing
that crocs and cobras watch and wait,
while jaguar eyes are glowing.
I’m attracted to cairns, and
I think I know why.
I do love a good rock, and these
point toward the sky.
The foundation is solid, a
wide, flat, smooth stone –
placed and chosen with care
to bear weight on its own.
come on, let’s kick it
feel the beat
swing those arms, bruh
groove them feet
Even the peaceful soul must know distress.
Knowledge was never gleaned from nothingness.
Duress is key, yet joy brings lessons too.
Bitter and sweet (combined) divine what’s true.
Hope was not meant
to lock in the result
that we hope for.
Hope is simply a force
to ease burdens and
light our way through.
My self-portrait, if made today,
would be on paper, not in clay.
An abstract, puzzling my eyes
in shapes I strain to recognize.
It’s up to me to live my days
in sunlit hues or shady haze.
Though circumstance vies for control,
I chart the weather in my soul.