Single Tear
One single tear
captive to hope
given birth by fear
nurtured by love
kisses my cheek.
A small gift
to share
my soul
- being healed -
is almost whole
at last.
I keep company
with the ghosts
of future, present
and spectres of the past.
Stand here
dream bound
almost free
at last!
Could I but reach out
and touch the face of night
Fingers fearther light
to touch, explore
to know your grace.
Walk with you in the day
lay beside you
in the silken night -
this would be bliss.
Held so close
our beating hearts
might kiss.
Storms Child
My flight, of late
has been full of confusion
and wild
Time is my enemy
and will not wait-
(or ever comfort)
for this Hawk, storm's child
But in this sanctuary
of imagination
who will play a part
and hold open the gates for me
A glimpse of light
of freedom
will refresh my heart
On wings and wind
the hawk flies
seeking peace
storm drawn and hunting
he cries
rising wild, he flies above
the world
On wings and wind
The Whispering Land
The long grey shore stretches many a mile
and the waves murmer slowly in sleep.
Sea birds slow drifting, all of the while,
and the solitude running deep.
The pallid rays of a sun reborn,
tint with a pastel shade,
the stark, live trees that greet the dawn
and the nighttime shadows fade.
The echoing quiet re-echoes again
by the waves of the time drifted sands
and the murmers and cries of a creature in pain
drift from the whispering land.
A stark haunted figure, covered in rags,
crawls from a dark, shadowed cave.
To stand and hearken the cries of the shag -
one man who will not be saved.
A coward they called him,
a deserter - a fool -
as he fled while the battle raged
- and now he lies hidden
where no one will look -
on the shores of the whispering land.
And he listens and hears the cries of those dead -
in a war that was never theirs.
He remembers too well the land that ran red
and knows how so few people care.
An echoing horror is stifled again
and the bodies lie covered with sand
- but the screams and the cries of a country in pain
still drift from the whispering land.
Sometimes
Sometimes
in the quiet moments
between breaths
comes truth -
Ours for the taking -
heaven sent
an instant of light
piercing fear
and at this time
before my sight
was this revealed:
"Words are my tears"
Shattering the silence
striking back
at the moments
of quiet violence
that surround.
The cry of life
that will not fail.
The beat of a heart
seeking
refuge.
The Child
Unquiet child
regard yourself
across the wasteland of years!
Who made them waste;
who left them wild;
who made you prey to fear?
I did.
I am that child
now grown
regarding that horizon
made of days.
If I had only known
what was before me
where would I have gone?
Wake up!
Discover the child within.
You have left him -
left myself -
locked away.
Let him come out
let yourself out
into the brighter light
of day.
Unquiet child,
regard yourself -
let go.
softly fly
I will await and softly fly
to your hand
and holding out my wild heart
cry:
Dearest! dance the storm with me!
We shall be too soon apart
live and love with me
in moments snatched from life!
Watch for my shadow
and my call
To your waiting wrist I fall.
A Word
The caress of a word -
your voice -
whispering my name,
taking my breath away.
Gone
far beyond choice
I am yours
and can never be the same.
You have become
my heart, my breath
you are
my night, my day.
I will wrap you
in my soul
surround you
be with you -
be your desire
make you whole
be the flame
to your sweet fire.
Let us be
complete together
and space and time
not separate.
Worship at the temple
of each other-
an act of gratitude
to fate.
Skin to skin
heart to heart
breath to breath
offering ourselves
to ourselves.
I love you.
Sonnet
If I had known blind Homer’s inner eye,
would that I had seen proud Illeum fall
Heard the army roar or seen Achilles die
In my fancies dream to hear the Sirens Call.
Seen all this or heard his Circe sigh
Oddyses with the suitors kills them all
Known all this and watched Penelope cry
Standing near as proud Agamemnon falls.
Here within this confined loney room
I dream away the years before my death
If I could know what Socrates had said
I could face with hopefullness my doom-
forget the struggle made for every breath-
The past secured face the empty years ahead.
Friends
Divided and joined
by the round world
we wait
separated by miles
yet brought close
by fate
here we stand
looking at a future
neither could have planned.
Where the smallest moment
that I spend with you
is like rain
on my parched soul
each second
heaven sent
torn out of time
a gift
to make us whole
I wait
with the patience of a child
hope filling my heart
and the rest of me
runs wild.
Thank you, StormHawk for sharing these poems with me. They are beautiful!!
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By: Sockie A. Miranda Copyright ©1997 by Socorro A. Miranda