A Spectrum of Time
I listen to the silence.
Whispers of the past
Each a symphony of time,
And I, the composer, admire
The harmony of events;
And I, the critic, detect
The discords of mistakes,
The music fades softly into the night.
I peer into the darkness.
Shadows of the future
Rehearse a play of life.
And I, the observer, await the final act
Before judging its merits;
And I, the actor, strive for perfection
Regardless of the unexpected.
The curtain of destiny rises on another act.
I touch the empty canvas.
I feel the portrait of my present.
I, the subject, cannot escape
The frame that surrounds me;
And I, the artist, chose the colors
From an unlimited palette
To paint this spectrum of time.
My Shadow
The shadow of your words
Follows close behind me
Attached to every step my mind now takes.
They're longer in the early morning,
When walking in the sunlight.
When night approaches, your words give light
Reflecting back thoughts of memories.
Even at mid-day sun I can see them,
Barely visible underneath my feet.
No voices to distract me,
Your words are company enough.
How quickly the day passes.
I know that they are now my shadow,
For when I reach down to hold them,
They are unable to feel my touch,
And although I try, I cannot pick them up.
Wear Me
I want you to wear me comfortably,
as you would a dress
or the silver necklace that you wear
around your neck.
Comfortably, so that I am always
next to you.
But most important--
Something you decide
each morning to select.
If I Were to Suddenly Die Tomorrow
If I were to suddenly die tomorrow,
I would not want my soul
to travel where most souls go.
Instead I would ask for a temporary
leave of absence.
Have my soul join yours,
And be your companion until
we could both take leave together,
and together share eternity.
Inside of you, I could touch every atom
that comprises you.
Thank them for the work of art
they hold together,
For the beauty they enabled,
For the vision they provided,
Allowing me the gift of loving you.
Time
Time moves swiftly through revolving doors,
Trying desperately to make each moment part of the past.
Oh, that time could just stand still
And prevent today from becoming another yesterday.
A new and exciting world awaits us,
One where we could return to youth
And see a glimpse of freshness
And marvel at the wonders around us
If only we had the time.
If our eyes were not so stale,
A three-ring circus would be ours to enjoy
And later, when we grew up, we could walk along the beach
Hand in hand
Forever.
Seeing everything for the first time,
And even Peter Pan would not object to having strings attached
If it were not for the lack of time.
Time moves swiftly through revolving doors,
Trying desperately to make each moment part of the past.
Oh that time could just stand still
And prevent today from becoming just another memory.
To John
Sometimes a soul lingers here on earth
Before joining the Heavenly Concourse,
To remain as a Divine Gift,
It ignites the nobility within us;
Take us to poems, prayers and promises.
A part of this soul resides within us as a melody--
A testimony to love what we feel,
And feel what we love,
And their art, music and poetry contain the
Very essence of their soul.
Dear John, each day I hear your song
And I know you are not gone,
For I feel your soul inside of me.
And dwell within your symphony.
When I walk, you walk with me.
To Roger White
INTRODUCTION: Roger White died in the early 1990's. Around 1996, at least a half a dozen people wrote and told me how similar Roger's poetry was to mine. I could find only two books by roger, but their impact on me cannot be measured. I started writing when I was 15 years old; and now, years lates, when I read Roger; I saw thoughts and feelings I had experience din the past reflected back to me through his writings.
Roger, I loved you
Long before I knew you lived
and we would never have a chance to meet--
listening to your music while sitting at your feet.
Long before I read a word you wrote
Your words, like music, did not die.
I now find comfort in your melodies--
They caress the Haifa of my mind.
It is here, we spend a day and night together,
Sharing hope and promises yet to come.
You took the hate, mistrust, and anger,
the senseless killings that we wear,
and cleansed the evil stains that clothed us
released hidden beauty that was there,
tossed them to the wind--into the air.
I dreamed your words when I was young,
Assuring me that I was not alone, and that you care.
Your gentle words reside within me,
And I am not alone, for you are there.
My Dream
I am a dreamer.
A hopeless, eternal dreamer.
I dream not of what is,
But of what could be.
I dream that Mothers' sons
Will never die in war again,
For on one bright sunny day,
While God was sitting at the Computer of Life,
He deleted hate from all our memory banks.
Prejudice could no longer be accessed,
And all the remained
Was an error message within our minds.
I am a dreamer,
A hopeless, eternal dreamer.
I dream not of what is,
But of what should be.
I dream of children everywhere,
Being held and being loved.
CNN no longer has pictures to show
Of children who lie dying on the ground,
Reaching out for help and hope.
Children more bone than flesh,
Who plead for nourishment
As they take their final breath;
But the only one who could offer
Sustenance of milk and bread
Must continue to roll the film
Within the camera instead.
I am a dreamer.
A hopeless, eternal dreamer.
I dream not of what is,
But of what may be.
I dream of civil servants
Who are both civil and servants.
They are the rich of the earth,
Who are required to pay
One year of servitude in lieu of tax,
And do so willingly,
For this is their true reward.
I dream that justice will be proclaimed
The Patron Saint of all the courts--in every land.
That killing, rape, and violence
Is anobscure chapter in some forgotten history text.
For I am a dreamer,
A hopeless, eternal dreamer.
I dream not of what is,
But of what must be.
I dream that love and beauty
Are the food we eat,
And all the clothes we wear.
That flowers be declared legal tender,
And "In God We Trust" be embossed on every petal
And Praise to God be mentioned everywhere.
For I am a dreamer,
A hopeless, eternal dreamer,
I dream not of what is,
But that you share this dream with me.
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