and empty orbits:
this world, these people
who are born from similar explosions
who respond to the same clock
who can't tell reflections from bodies.
Let them not find it, my Lord,
hidden in the secret compartment
under the library, too broken a heart.
I love selflessly,
I pray for my enemies,
I walk my path slowly.
why can't I be spared?
most often the selfless aren't saved by any external agency. they have to save themselves
ReplyDeleteI specially like the question in the ending:
ReplyDeleteI walk my path slowly.
why can't I be saved?
Wishing you Merry Christmas Kenia ~
I'm always amazed at the way people deliberately seek to emphasize differences, in skin colour, hair texture, religious persuasion, political ideology, location on a map, instead of embracing the similarities we share. This poem provides much matter for thought, Kenia. Even when we think we can't be saved, we could be saving someone else unknowingly.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure everyone can be saved from themselves one way or another. While I may not be religious I am a spiritual person, and I can tell you from experience that we all eventually realize something. Just might not be asking ourselves the right questions.
ReplyDeleteTo love your enemies.. that's so much needed in days like these... when borders are drawn and we sort by color codes.. let us recognize the we are foremost humans and nothing else.
ReplyDeleteVery intense. I enjoyed reading it and pondering the words.
ReplyDeletehttp://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com/2014/12/wish-for-dreams-that-never-come-true.html
hope it can stay hidden, under the circumstances.
ReplyDeleteSo much to think about...The night seems to raise more questions than answers. Beautiful
ReplyDeletemaybe that's not our fate, salvation. maybe we're just random atoms... either way, it's a beautiful pen ~
ReplyDeleteThis is kind of a poem of contradictions which I think is what we feel when in pain-- wanting connection and fearing it. You use this pain very effectively to describe that terrible disconnect. Thanks. K.
ReplyDeleteI love the use of questions in poetry; it makes the words seem more personal and immediate.
ReplyDeleteAre you mad at me? You never visit anymore. :-(
I like the flow of this. Some of it is vague to me but the last stanza and the last question are great.
ReplyDeleteI can be saved, if I let people find my broken heart ...
ReplyDelete