Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Texas 2

First comes the fun
We run and laugh
Up and down, spinning,
Then suddenly
It rings,
And when it's open
Comes the news.
Not yet, we know,
We want to get there,
And silently the words come,
As we speak, I ride,
He drives, we chat,
And finally a gasp.
"She's gone."

I'll be reading this poem at my grandmother's funeral.
Once life breathes,
Sometimes in many or few,
There we find family,
Friends, hope.

But what becomes
Ends up lost
And it's never really true.

I know this shell of hers
Contained her once
And now she is free

Reclaimed by death,
Yet there she has life,
One day we'll see here
But forever we'll feel her.

Our hearts remain,
And in them we find,
Family, friends, and hope.

Poem 3:
We do not see
We do not speak.

The hidden veil of silence,
Does not open,
So you do not know,
Until it's too late.

Does not come.
Do not work.

But the lies are all overtold,
Like they shouldn't be,
So you do not see,
Until you're unready.

Yet I feel
That in this dark
There is something

Poem 4:
Hope is a light
Small yet bright
It speaks of.

Faith is a seed
Small yet strong
It grows of.

Charity is a smile
Small yet sweet
It tells of.

Peace is a dream
Small yet true
It sings of.

And as for dreams,
They are all of the above,
Idealistic, warm,
And finally achieved.

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