13 July 2009

poem 07/13/09

if i were to speak the truth
if this were within my power

to say the words that held the meaning of the universe
and make everyone hear them

...no one would listen.


there is no room for a modern-day christ
but there is room for a small voice,
whispering from the darkness,
rustling through the leaves of the trees,
reaching those who most need it.


a smile crosses the lips
of the first person to hear
the words
that give meaning
to everything,
and she resolves to keep it quiet in her heart
and speak it through her deeds.

the wood of the cross holds no greater secret
than this:
love is the (most) powerful means to an(y) end.

she touches her finger to her lips
and looks at you
with a shy grin,
before turning and running away,
skirt flapping, eyes shining,
all brightness and living.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love this.
The character reminds me of a cross between a goddess, a fairy, and a wise old woman.

I'm sure I'll be back to read this again.

~B.