Where
by Marilyn McIntyre
Where?
are poems alive
upon the page
do words have meaning
does the music sing
when no one hears
am i alive when i’m alone
does my breath soar
and reach another’s dreams
will God hear me
can i feel with no other
to give me bounds
and where do my feelings fly
in the night
mysterious and dark and calling
if my eyes cannot see
is it so
and the candle
what of the candle
will it still glow
without tender whispered murmurs
where will my love touch down
must it float forever
meandering among the stars
where does it all go
where does it go
when it’s gone?
Angel Whispers
the time is upon us
rest, rest
clouds of snow
drift gently down
rest, rest
violin, serene
words alone
thoughts untangle
time solely owned
rest, rest
sing to your heart
wordlessly murmur
lullabies and time
to rest, to rest
womb and warmth
rockabye, rockabye
shush, hush, dream
to rest, to rest
listen, feel, fly
the angels whisper
rustle, ascend
rest, rest.
So I’ll leave a seed
a spore here on the page
and when you see it it will
take root
in your heart
in the strands of your muscles
but it cannot
can it
The words on this screen can only flicker
here for awhile
and cannot be the wind in the trees
or the yellow and reddish leaves falling from
those trees
Words are only words and yellow leaves are only
leaves and the wind
doesn’t know
they are catching the sunlight
and I’m not so sure myself
So I’ll leave a seed
a spore here on the page
and when you see it it will
take root
in your heart
in the strands of your muscles
and we will pretend it was possible
and this seed will grow
and because these words flickered for a moment
for a moment
maybe
you too can see the leaves falling
and you can say I once saw these
leaves falling and
they were black and they were white
and they flickered for a moment
and fell in piles
and I saw them
lying on the ground
yellow and red
The vet said, “Are you sure?”
And Glo said yes
But I was looking at the old girl
Walking around our feet, unknowing
And I said let’s take her home again
And see
But Glo said it’s too much of a mess.
Kind Glo who had brought Lady home
Many years ago and loved her
So we lifted the poor thing up
To the table
And she lay there, tail slapping
And I watched the needle go in
And the poor thing’s movements
Stopped almost immediately
And all I could think of
Was
Why not for human suffering
Perhaps me some day?
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling Rudyard Kipling- If
