22 February 2011

writing poems in late Winter

I've been writing poetry a lot lately. I took a Poetry Therapy class, and I guess I've been inspired. It almost feels like when I'm writing a poem I am taking a picture of my emotions and keeping them for remembrances.  

a remembrance

My friend Judy is putting together a collection of words for peace. I gave her this. 

My first memory is holding hands across America.

I'm five I think. It's sunny and the light is in my eyes.
My grammie is on my left, an old man stranger on my right,
and my abuelito nearby.
I'm smiling up at my gram and the happy faces around me
That are singing, "We are the world" and
Asking for peace.

And, still today, I know
This is what peace is like.
It is a coming together.

Peace is singing around the campfire,
holding someone in love,
a kiss upon the cheek,
a tear wiped away, and
a mother rocking her child.

Peace is believing and trusting.
It is a head laying on a shoulder,
pushing a friend on the swing,
giving your sister the last piece,
and holding hands across the world.

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