I daydream of the day when all of this madness ceases
When the chaotic war of sticks and stones
Quits leaving its creases
In the foreheads of those who know
That those sticks and stones may break these bones
But words will always hurt me.
The world is full of beautiful people yet we fail to see them.
They are the ones who sit in quiet contemplation,
Who have an air of beauty surrounding them,
Who never need anyone yet crave company,
Not out of need for companionship, but because they want to let Their light shine for those who can see it, hoping they’ll pick up A bit of it and make their own gleam brighter,
Often wondering if it was worth shining for those that never see or appreciate the light or if they actually see it; Yet still we glow brightly, a beacon in the dark for all those who don’t see, we continue to shine.
Even when we don’t see the beauty that surrounds us, we still try to put it out there for others to see, when we can’t see the light, we still shine, knowing that beautiful people don’t just happen.
Nothing
so kind
as a word
tucked in
the right
spot
like a
fine
pillow.
Goes
the sound
of offending
skin
let us
be kind ladies
never forgetting
we live
in a world
with so few
manners.
He is foaming
at the mouth
with his own
angers and hatred
How does a man
speak poison
and not harm
his own tongue
It is impossible
not to.
Keep whispers
Around corners
To yourselves
I am not fodder
for gossips
Keep judgments
Made silently
Inside your mouth
No one needs
to hear another
harangue
Speak kindness
Not ill
So days are many.
Three travellers, meeting on the mountain-side,
paused to speak briefly, each to each.
Said the first:
I seek the mountain’s distant height,
the mighty summit’s peak,
beyond the struggle and fray,
the endless lies, the dark deceit,
the never-ending thump of guns,
the bigotry, prejudice and conceit,
O high, so high above
the plain’s violent stagnation
I seek a vision and a dream
and in desperation flee
from oppressive humanity.
The second replied:
This ledge is sufficient for me.
I have long stayed observing here
and I delight to see
the curious scurrying and strife
on the distant plain below,
the march of armies, the boom of guns,
the inevitable ebb and flow,
and when this ceases to delight
then I raise my eyes up to the sky’s
interplay of colour and light
or wrap myself in velvet night.
The third said:
I have walked to the summit
and now return to the plain,
though the armies plunder
and the rapacious growl for gain.
I have heard the orphan’s cry,
the widow’s sorrowing groan,
the homeless sigh,
the wounded moan.
I descend, taking what I can,
gifts ever so slight and small,
touch soft and gentle like a kiss,
words as kind as healing balm
and empathy that is palm to palm.
The light of the world shines
through the souls,
through the smiles,
through the eyes
of all of its’ inhabitants.
And in time
All things dark will be illuminated.
Together we are brighter than the sun,
and we too
can shower this world,
shower this life,
shower this existence
with warmth.
The measure of a parent
or any person
should be that we treat
each other as well
as we know how
And I have not been
the person I should be
But I am committed
to changing from
now on.
