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Thursday, October 8, 2009

Mantra

When I look into someone else’s eyes
My selflessness grows
thoughts of personal concerns assuaged
I help wipe their tears and lift their soul.

I’ve made this choice within myself
To share, to give, which helps mend my soul
Somewhat of a selfish act, I know
But in return we both will grow

It motivates for me to act
Not to wait or wallow in apathy
My bodies thin no longer fat
My hearts muscle grows in energy

Something we all should do
Is give of our time
Look for those less fortunate
Lessen the worries in their mind

It is not just words I wish to mentor
My actions will replace the space
And attest to that which I speak
Through volunteerism and kindness
End my day with thoughts of Love and peace.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

In my native language

Sometimes I wonder if my prose or poetry
were written in my native language,
Would it mean the same,
would the words still play the same strings
Upon the harp that resides in the heart?

Would the ears that hear the rhythms of my words
as I play them in the stanzas of a song,
could they sing along?

If I say, ‘mi Corazon, tus ojos brillan
como cuando miro a las estrellas
En el cielo de la noche‘, would you know
That I speak of how your eyes are as bright
As the stars at night?

If my soul could speak in the language of my Mother’s Mother
And recall the mountains that would sentry our little town,
Where as ‘tots’ we would chase the roosters and chickens
Barefooted in the dirt street as they would stand laughing
And clapping when we would fall tackling and only
Grasping the feathers of their wings.

The gaiety of their smiles and the tears
From their laughter still resound in the fondness
Of my memories, while my Mother shouts “ oye Nene,
cuidado, carga la! Necesito huevos”.

The heart strings of my memory in these words
cannot be played in translation but the tune of the song
Can certainly be heard in the melody that my eyes sing
Through the tears of joy as they rhythmically flow down,
Down my aged cheeks on my face.

“El mar tiene las perlas,
El cielo tiene las estrellas,
Pero, mi Corazon, mi Corazon,
Mi Corazon tiene amor!”

“The sea has its perils,
The Heavens its stars,
But my heart, my heart,
My heart has Love!”

by H. Heine

Child Lost

Such sadness when a child is lost so soon,
To life’s inimitable reality, the end.
Some say sadness should not define the
Truth of death but when it comes insidiously
To one so young with pain and suffering,
It leaves one with feelings that God
Does not Love his own creation.

We who awaken to the toils and travails
Of life’s burdensome assail, of waning youth
And upon the shoulders of the aging process,
compares little to the distraught felt
By a child’s feebly opening eyes
Not understanding why such anguished few years
Upon him, life’s availed.

Soon, though, arrives when I might feel
Much like that child that my years on earth
Have come to the end of my apportioned time.
The deterioration of my skin and bones
And excruciating manifest pain
And my eyelids not wanting to open
Because even in sunny days, within my heart and soul
Are covered in grey clouds and rain.

It is not that I am saying “woe is me”
But that here in this moment of my life
I am anguished of life’s end and like that child
Not understanding why like this it must end.
In pain and shared tears of sadness from loved ones
Why should we not of God’s presence
Feel mourn filled disdain?

I would gladly give some years of my life
To that child, to witness love, to witness happiness,
And yes to witness sadness delineating from what is joy.
If I could give the fondness of some memories
Within that child’s abode, I would smile in the face of death
That I had stolen from it’s sinister grasp
And given that child the gift of time.