------------------
Poem #1
so many churches here
I happen
upon passing my way
its sad
really--I think to myself,
as if I could share this with them.
This understanding in my head
that I hold. Right now,
I sometimes lose--but right now its here.
"We hold
the future" one of their signs
read. A little church
blessed, old and worn. I can
tell good people show up there.
I can see their smiles and laughter.
Like the church my grandparents helped raise
resolve, and pass on to another generation.
I don't want to take their hope
I want to whisper
something they already see
but like me
lose
grasp of
along the way.
They...Like me, grasping and losing
every day; along the way.
I wish I could share
with them
that it is right here--for me. It
is there around them too--it has to be.
When we listen, at peace
we can see.
For me, it is sitting here
my lovers hand in mine; a
phone call to a mother
early easter sunday with love.
A text message from a father
miles away. Memories of a sister--three
years gone--
left dancing in the ocean
at peace now.
The quiet prayers of an atheist
a silent, grateful thought
for the unending love and grace
of a cousin love, a cousins gift.
Another spirit, kindred spirt
sitting in the beams of glamour
down the left coast way
these simple gifts, I sit and let them
flow
through me.
As I pass these lamp-posts of grace
guiding passers by
I try not to shun, but feel the sadness
of unshared and unspoken...
negation is a world with no compassion
no acknowledgement. Something I can't tell them
all those promising salvation, hoping "just around
the corner" comes soon.
all I can do
is share what I have found
that which I will lose
and be forced, to remind myself
of;
hold my hand out to others
smile, listen, and respect
my brothers on this endless night of waiting
its daylight to stop burning.
I am here
just another easter sunday.
And its just poem #1
revisting the old;
and I am blessed.
No comments:
Post a Comment