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Poetry by Shigé Clark

"Let the battered heart rejoice"

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loved

Something Precious

He touched her
Like a priceless piece of art,
Like stained glass,
Like spun silver.
His hands cupped her face
Like the last draught of water
Beneath a scorching sun.
His fingers brushed her skin
Like the fire’s glow
Within a winter’s night.
Like she was light in the abyss,
Air above the water,
The pulse beneath his skin.
He touched her
Like she was something precious.
And for that, she loved him.

– s. Clark

Theme Week: Fighting for Light – 3

Loving Arms

Sometimes the darkness gets its way
Sometimes I cannot find the day,
But when I most deeply had lost my way,
That was the time You found me.

Sometimes I feel the pain’s too deep
Sometimes it seems the climb’s too steep,
But I can fight the whole world, if You keep
Your loving arms around me.

– s. Clark

Theme Week: Loving Yourself – 2

Treasure

It does not do to dwell on the ugly,
Though we all surely have it within,
The grime that we all feel inside us,
All the scars strewn out over our skin
But, you know, there must also be beauty,
Though you say that you only see dirt,
There is music and magic and moonlight
Where you feel only anger and hurt.
And I know that you look at yourself, dear,
Finding nothing worthwhile to prize,
But I have a vast secret to tell you,
If you manage to block out the lies
If I lean very close, and I whisper,
Will you heed my small voice in your ear?
If I promise to keep my words gentle,
Can you open your soul up to hear?
If I told you your heart was a treasure,
And how worthless you feel, a façade,
For the price to win your love and beauty
Was the blood and the breathe of a God
Because long before you saw the ugly,
Knew yourself deep enough to feel guilt
There were galaxies raised to enchant you,
And his love is what ordered them built.
If I told you that you are so precious
There has been a decree by the king,
That for you there be sunshine and oceans,
And flowers sent to you in spring.
You are made up of stardust, eternal,
You are stunning and strong as the earth.
Please know, when you feel unimportant,
Not a soul here can measure your worth.

– s. Clark

Trial of the Ages

Call the crying critics in,
Tell them to declare their lies.
Stand of strengthened soul within
Holds Him silent, burns His eyes.
“Blasphemy!”, what they accuse
With their pointing fingertips
Is the very thing they use,
Slipping from their lying lips.
Though the saintly sadists yell,
Nothing shouted stands. But still,
Who He is will not compel
Victim to assert His will.
Jesters juggle Him, the same,
Through their hoops of pain and pride,
And He claims a kingly name
Though His servants flee His side.
Soon His flesh will break and tear,
As He promised them it would,
And He calls not legions there
To defend Him, though He could.
He will hang upon His grave
And permit their taunts, that He
May no longer call us “slave”
And true Children let us be.
Call the crying critics in,
They will watch the Lord arise!
Stand of strengthened soul within
Names Him victor, burns His eyes.

– s. Clark

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