Will you talk to me about what goes on in the light?
Beyond my shimmering, shaking sight?
I will tell you of the moonbeams
Of colorful, iridescent silent streams
If you will just tell me what goes on in the bright
So far out of my sight.
I will tell you how I captured thunder in my skull
How lightning is contained within me without lull
If you will tell me the secrets outside my window
So far beyond my sorrow.
A migraine poem I wrote for a page I admin (Migraineur Misfits). We often share articles and information about migraines. Anything to spread awareness. I only write poetry when I feel really inspired to really. And I was struck with inspiration last night about isolation, pain, auras and this idea of yearning for a communication of what is going on beyond the darkness of where I am confined in times of migraine.
This is the image I pieced together for it: