Forget-Me-Not
On foggy minds, blue flowers, and the ache of remembering
Some days I feel like my mind slips into a fog and forgets how to return. Thoughts scatter like dry leaves in wind, or sink like stones in a deceptively calm lake, dragging me all the way down. No sound, no ripple. I try to grasp them — reasons, names, tasks I was meant to carry — but they always stay just out of reach.
But the world demands clarity. Consistent performance. Completion.
It doesn’t ask why something isn’t done or isn’t remembered. It just expects. And punishes for unmet expectations.
Yet inside, there’s only this ache, and the constant collision of thoughts, feelings and signals that create this fog.
There are moments when I question everything:
Am I lazy, or caught in something deeper?
Am I broken, or simply wired for a different kind of rhythm?
I have no easy answers to these questions. The only good answer is compassion.
I wrote this tanka in response to a prompt “Forget-Me-Not” hosted by MoonlitWeaverCollective on Instagram, accompanied by the image of a woman holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots. The symbolism struck me immediately — the soft contradiction of a flower that pleads not to be forgotten, blooming in the same breath that my mind loses its way.
Forget-Me-Not As days grow darker, my broken mind drowns in fog, forgetting reasons in the sea of blues, untaught. My soul pleads, forget-me-not. © Lana E. Taylor, 24 Aug 2025
Maybe someone out there needs this too — a small poem to say:
You’re not alone in the fog.
You are still worth remembering.
Do not forget your soul, even if the world does.
Sending love and light,
Lana
Of Salt & Silence
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Text + Soul © Lana E. Taylor
Steal my breath, not my words.
ᚂᚐᚅᚐ ᚈᚐᚔᚂᚑᚏ