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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Just a random poem that came, criticsm and comments welcome

 

Taize

 

So strange for me, a word

Lover, to understand—“Just

Sing along—words don’t really matter.”

Good thing they don’t;

They’re all in French,

and French is Greek

to me!

 

“Lumiere en tenebre”

That’s what it’s all about;

Darkness and light, that’s what matters,

The quietness and the candles.

Scarcely a sound, we sit so still.

 

Staring at the candles,

Staring at the ceiling

And then stealing a look around the room;

The ceiling’s conical and of wood beams.

I’d never noticed that before.

 

So dark and all in French

But when I look around again

I see you all, community of friends

Darkness and light,

The candles seem so bright they hurt my eyes.

 

I look around, a friend smiles,

In French and not with words.

“Lumiere en tenebre”

Meditation, in song, with friends

That’s what matters.

  • 3 months later...
Posted

Alone.

The unshared press

of knees against floor

buttressing awkward

exhalations that grope

for words.

 

Tonight.

Folding and opening

my restless hands

keep time with eyes

unable to focus behind

closed lids.

 

Silent.

Unfinished thoughts

rise unbidden to sing

myself to someplace else

when I would stay

with you.

 

Here.

Alone.

Silent.

Tonight.

 

A fine piece of writing, Gwai, and one well-worth a belated comment and bump up to the top.

 

My apologies for not having gotten this response posted in a more timely fashion.

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