Two Poems

Destiny Gladys Chaiga

The Weight of a Rocking Chair


The rocking chair is wobbly
never by the carpenter’s blade
but by its occupant’s agitation.
Thoughts never aligned but hidden.
Feelings ever boiling but tightly capped.
Energy often drained and not boosted.
Countless words unspoken. So, his rocking chair wears and tears over the years
with the invisible weight of his unexpressed struggles.
The rocking chair is a portal
where troubled minds attempt to find solace
in the temporary cradle of rest that will never come.

Time Heals No Wounds


When grief springs forth like a thief
unmasking all secreted unspoken fears,
stripping naked all snugly incarcerated vulnerabilities,
the clock’s tick-tock echoes will fade.
Time’s healing hands will numb.

In a daze, as dawn and dusk veil unnoticed
a funeral for an aggrieved mind to mourn,
a memorial for a wounded heart to bleed,
a bemoaning bitter soul to lament,
the clock’s tick-tock echoes will fade.
Time’s 24/7 eye-watch is blind.

How does time heal all wounds
when rawness of pain beckons the grave for rest
when broken pieces mutate out of puzzle
when every sigh measures the weight of invisible yokes.
Time is void of life to revivify.
Time heals no wounds.
It gives me its usual self,
till I find my foothold again.

Cover image: Hoher Wachter. Paul Klee, public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.