(shout out from Iraq, my friends)
The Thaw
It has been winter so long.
Cold crept in and creaked her bones,
Made her icy to the touch.
She wanted to see the beauty in the snowflakes,
In the shimmer of the endless ice,
But she is buried six-feet deep,
Breathing in shards.
She tried to ward the winter off–
Keep moving, friction forces warmth.
Curled her toes and rubbed her hands together,
Huddled close to someone else’s heat.
But they were temporary flames,
Only candles, blown out in the blizzard of her soul.
Until, unforeseen beneath the grey gloom sky,
The Sun returned. And though so far removed,
Unreachable by tiny, frosted hands,
The strength of its fire lit the sky
And rolled across the earth like liquid gold.
And, softening its strength,
It caressed her frigid fingers. With a crack,
The frozen fissures of her heart are thawed
And melted into clean, spring water.
– s. Clark
The sunlight kissed her skin.
And a kiss it was, of a lost love
In soft, sweet remembrance of joy.
The merry wind breathed against her,
And she laid back beneath it,
Inhaling its rich perfumes.
Water traced her feet in cool caress,
Trickling through her toes.
This was not a day for shoes.
It was a day for tranquil moments,
For reacquaintance of spirits,
It was a day for loves renewed.
– s. Clark
Give me something beautiful
I have seen gray,
Mud-slushed water in street drains
Billowed clouds holding back their tears
Cold, silent gravestones set in perfect order
Parking lots, of rocks pounded into dust
By tired treads of whining wheels.
Give me color
Dandelions scattered over fields,
Tiny spots of sun in their emerald sky
Soft, pink blossoms twirling in the wind
Endless, untouched white coating the ground,
Clinging to trees in sunrise sparkles
Give me life
Cherry-apple cheeks of laughing children
Deep, chestnut hair, braid-twisted,
And hidden halfway beneath a scarlet hat
The faded rust of cobblestone streets
Ocean eyes set in an earthen face
I have seen too much of gray,
Give me something beautiful
– s. Clark
The world could have been flat.
I’m just saying, as far as dimension
is concerned, only God’s intention
dictated “Rise, and fall”
of landscape. So we all
get to learn what it means to climb,
to struggle over distance as well as time,
and gain height. Change perspectives,
discover scope along our directives.
The world could have been flat.
What possesses a Creator
to envision something greater
far beyond the meager needs of man?
To scatter stars across the span
of space.
To trace
a rhythm into time
so that as meter intwines
with swell and dip of tone,
we have the magic of music sewn
into the fabric of simple vibrations.
I look upon the glory of creation,
thinking how the world could have been flat.
– s. Clark
My mind has gone out for a stroll,
I don’t know when it will return.
It wandered down a trail of dreams
And left its duty for concern.
It may have settled in the wood,
And hidden deep amidst the trees,
To sit awhile, unperturbed,
Beneath the shade of memories.
Or, may haps, it has made its way
To rest upon the ocean shore,
Take in the sea of shifting thought
And waves of worries that will roar.
My mind has gone out wandering
Around some unexpected bend,
It has escaped into the mist.
Who knows if it may come again?
– s. Clark
