She
Likes to think herself
As a pebble
It’s not out of humility
Truly
She has become one
A rock she was
Slowly very slowly
Erosion began
When those waves were flowing
Over her
She was dragged
Down and down
By the current
Into a dark hollow
Of sorrow
The bruise
Was wearing her away
But she is of rock material
Not so easy to grind her
She has changed her texture
On purpose
She is smooth to touch
Her contusion in streaks of
quartz
Glows
That amazing inner light
In multifarious hues
Make others bow in awe
A miracle
of God is
She
*She is a dear friend of mine and
my inspiration. Having lost her only child, husband and very recently her
father she is still standing and like the mighty pine deeply rooted to the
faith in God is braving the storm. We’ve been friends from school and though
she lives far away from my town we meet more than once in a year. I am in awe
of her.
Posted for Alan’s
prompt Pebbles @ Poetry Jam
Dead man wishes
For a body
Any color would do
Black, white, yellow, brown
Any hue
Dead man yearns
For a body
Any body would do
A man’s, woman’s or a eunuch’s
A body true
Dead man dreams
Of a body
Of any kind
Deaf, mute, blind
Dead man badly needs
A home
He has consciousness to keep
He will pray for a thousand years
He has sacrificed his sleep
