Like Confetti

I scrunch up my eyes
behind my mask
so that a smile squeezes through
to counteract the pain
my heart is a broken clock
time is meaningless now
i have nothing left in me
but love that flutters like confetti
thrown on a windy day

how much will be lost
to the vastness?
how much will be gained?
when all is said and done
will anyone know me?
will anyone remember my name?

we are golden dandelions of hope
shaken
turning into puffy globes
of exposed seeds
traveling over long distances
holding onto wishes
carrying
thoughts and dreams


ยฉ๏ธ 2020 Sacred SoulSongs / MW๐Ÿ™

For dVerse and our host Linda ๐Ÿ’–

39 comments

  1. This is so beautifully expressive. Lots of raw emotion which I love.

    My favorite stanza:

    โ€œto counteract the pain
    my heart is a broken clock
    time is meaningless now
    i have nothing left in me
    but love that flutters like confetti
    thrown on a windy dayโ€

    Absolutely stunning writing. Love to you. โค๏ธ๐Ÿ’•Joni

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Each dandelion seed is blown on the wind of hope… I remember as a child using the dandelion clock to blow the seeds… One o’clock, two o’clock three o’clock, as I blew out my wishes…

    We are all of us never lost or forgotten, but our seeds, as we send out our thoughts and words may well seem lost on the wind at times MW, but they are heard and our thoughts and hearts desires join within the conscious wind that unites other like minded souls which raise the collective voice through love…

    So keep casting out your confetti….. May your words scatter far and wide… for if only one seed is planted, within another’s heart… Our Mission is done… โค โค โค

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Mother Wintermoon,
    As I read, I felt an empowerment in your words. What personally grabbed me was; how much will be lost to the vastness? how much will be gained? I often wonder about this…time will tell, along with our inner wisdom. Thanks for sharing!
    Many Blessings to you!
    Lisa

    Liked by 1 person

  4. …and we do well to remember the resilience of the dandelions and their refusal to allow their light to be expunged.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. I like the transition from confetti to dandelion seeds. Love impacts us like confetti- which brings an explosion of brief happy sensation, but then falls like litter, infertile, needs to be cleaned up- but not without its own validity, I love confetti. And if someones love directed at me seems like confetti, it might be because it is a paper dead love that looks bright, or it might be because I am a hard street surface that cannot receive. I am touched that love is “like” confetti, but that we “are” actually “ARE” golden dandelions of hope, our love not as flashy or noticeable as confetti, yet exposed, vulnerable, and more powerful. When the exposed seeds float and find purchase, the result in a new life, touching a fertile receptive ground. I think there is tremendous positive truth when we strive to see each other for what we truly are vs what we may seem to be.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. There are times I feel so lost as I look around at all the shrouded faces and see more and more withdrawing. Your words are beautifully penned, MW, words that I believe all of us can relate to. This too shall pass. Think of those seeds that fly upon the wind, seeds of pure light, that find fertile ground to grow. I see dandelions as expressions of light and air. Both are so needed in this world today. Much love to you!!! xo

    Liked by 1 person

  7. The disorientation is palpable in the first part of your poem, but then there they are, the golden seeds of hope, dispersing. Very intense poem, Mother Wintermoon.

    Like

Your words are a blessing and a joy to receive

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