Balance

Joy is uplifting,

Melancholy submerges,

Joy is elusive,

Melancholy’s pervasive,

Seeking to tip the balance!

This is my attempt at Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, as you know, if you read my blog, I definitely enjoy a Haiku, but Tanka is new to me.

Why not have a go yourself? Tanka is a 31 syllable poem that can be one continuous line or, as I have done, 5 lines with a syllable count running 5,7,5,7,7.

Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

Melancholy’s Pit

Tetchiness hiding deep sadness,

Nearly overwhelmed.

Melancholy’s pit came close.

But I saw its approach!

It was tempting to jump in.

Its monochrome space,

Is comforting, safe.

But its bleak views,

and the hard climb out,

Stayed my leap.

_{This week has been a struggle as my mind has been melancholy. I have been gripped before like this and found myself in the ‘pit’, which basically meant putting my existence on pause, which is not as pleasant as it sounds. I have learnt to see the pit approaching and do all I can not to dive in. As it is better, in the long run, to struggle through topside. Than to have to break the miserable thought cycle and muster the energy to climb out. But if you are in the pit right now, I understand and I promise you are not alone.}

This Brené Brown video on empathy vs sympathy is excellent guidance. Not just when handling someone you care about’s sadness, but also in checking how your internal dialogue is treating you.

Chaotic Thought

Chaotic thought,

Buffets my mind.

I fear I’m caught,

In a mental bind.

–

Been here before,

And know what to do.

But motivations sore,

My inspiration flew.

–

Creeping toward,

Melancholy’s trap.

Where my reward,

Is anxiety’s flap.

–

All I can do,

Is patiently wait.

For cheer to brew,

And not be too late!

Mind Storm

Thoughts gust and billow,

The sails of consciousness.

Tearing down equanimity,

Whipping up despondency.

Mind is tossed and turned.

Finding no fine calmness,

No quiet act of divinity;

Can settle and let it be.

Yearning for the solace,

Lost in squall’s madness.

Cyclone’s destructive proclivity,

to disturb a sense of decency.

Then the worst is over, leaving

persistent rains of sadness.

Mind’s cyclone bows to gravity,

& battered, but lucid you see.

It was simply passing weather

The awesome greatness,

Of melancholy’s audacity,

Obsolete to patience’s key

Future’s Beckoning

Future’s beckoning,

Time’s reckoning.

Melancholy threatens,

Peace deadened.

Conquering fear,

Living right here.

Finishing tasks,

Doing what’s asked.

Vanquish despondency,

Averting tragedy.

Becoming complete,

Understated, discrete.