So That They May See It, a poem

poor

 

I have found a way

to cloud my tears

and yet exist

in the unpleasantness

of this decade,

while wagging tongues

wade the distant rivers

waging wars of rhetoric.

I only hear the sound

of nature’s voice

reciting the eternal pages

of her beautiful poetry.

Were it a blue reaching sky

a crimson glow across the horizon

or the flight of a distant dove

it does not matter.

My heart whispers

in soaring, rhythmic phrases

that traipse across this gentle landscape

rhyme rolling off of the tongue

like nectar dripping from honeysuckle

its slow descent, intensifies the pleasure,

but still, what have I wrought from this –

unending bliss in a world of my own making?

For what makes me complete

what makes me whole

is the heart with which beats beneath my breast.

No matter the pain, the hidden scars, the tears wept

I must listen with good intent

for hidden behind the recesses of this existence,

beauty has gently laid her head

between the sleeping forms

of those who need compassion.

Were I to find it there, I would be blessed

but ever so much more, should I open their eyes

so they can see it.

 

© Sumyanna 2017

 

Beautiful image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Sangbad says:

    Hard hitting…liked it…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sumyanna says:

      Thank you very much.

      Liked by 1 person

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