Complementary

For those who stop themselves

I am afraid to share my voice but you love to sing.

From now, when I am beside you,

may your glad singing always override my inhibitions.

May you remember to look at me directly 

and sing loudly with no thought to my shyness.

May your voice, which soothes me in plain speech,

in singing wrap around me and pull out my smile, 

a hum, so maybe someday my song will rush out to meet yours.

You avoid moving to music but I love to dance.

From now, when you are beside me,

may my sway and stomp always override your embarrassment.

May I remember to look at you directly 

and dance freely with no thought to your shyness.

May my feet, which walk comfortably beside yours,

step joyfully around you and pull out your smile, 

a bounce, so maybe someday your dance will rush out to meet mine.

© Laura Seale, 2017

Couple dancing, Peru
Library of Congress
from Wikimedia Commons

On Ground Cut Small

It was my wish before this all began

That the generals felt our pain and rode off

In the night when we were so sound asleep  

We could not arise and begin our fight

Once again, once again, on ground cut small.

Surely great leaders know when troops weary,

And though spirit bound by bronze and steel, they stand

Where tomorrow finds them a new home beyond

The bounds not of steel or bronze defining them

As one, in what they never were nor want.

My wish so sorely slashed by fear and pain,

Generals by small men retained again,

And love turned to hatred again in flame

As my home falls to the depths of grief,

Golden only in defending itself.

Golden only in defending itself.

But now a song is sung I wish were new,

Yet began seven centuries ago, 

When fire and metals blended for weapon 

And tool in kiln of concrete kept secret

To survive in the desert that goes like this,

  

The highest steeple in the greatest land

Is no larger than the pettiest man.

The highest steeple in the greatest land

Is no larger than the pettiest man.

Once again, once again, on ground cut small.    

© Dennis Wright, 2018

Unburied Dead on Battlefield ~ Hanover County, Virginia
June, 1862
Civil War stereograph
DeGolyer Library collection, Southern Methodist University
from Wikimedia Commons

I Feel the Edge of Myself Now

HOW I LOVE MUSIC

THAT MOVES THE TEARS IN MY HEART 

TO MY EYES!

---- I COULDN’T DO THAT IF I TRIED

AND THAT IS WHY

I BELIEVE IN THE TRUTH OF FEELING

ABOVE THE POWER TO REASON MY WAY

I WISH I COULD CRY EVERYDAY

I WISH I COULD MAP THE COURSE OF MY TEARS

SO WHEN I FEEL LOST

I COULD FIND MY WAY CLEAR

TO GET BACK TO MY SOUL ----

TO THAT BREAKAWAY MOMENT OF UNITY,

OF CERTAINTY,

WHOLE

I FEEL THE EDGE OF MYSELF NOW,

LIKE A CURTAIN OF LIGHT ----

SATORI IS NOT SO FAR AWAY,

JUST A WINK OF THAT SELF-IN-TIME

I AM, AND YOU ARE, DIVINE

I WANT THE COMPANY OF THOSE

WHO STIR UP THE RIVER OF TEARS I’VE STORED,

TO FLOW AND FLOOD DOWN ALL THE YEARS

UNTO THE BLISS

OF ALWAYS

© Gerry Sackett, 2018

Picture taken inside the lens at Pigeon Point Lighthouse
by Jeedew
from Wikimedia Commons