Her life
Has been one full of warm embraces
Friendly faces
Untied shoe laces
Dragging through the dirt.
Her time
Has been spent in merry-making
Grateful resting, groggy waking
Reckless risk-taking
So much beyond her hurt.
– s. Clark
Don’t Dress in Black
Don’t dress in black the day I die
Instead, wear blue, like care-free sky
Or yellow, like the smiling sun,
Don’t wear black when my life is done.
Wear white, to match my joyful breath
Don’t dress to try to match my death.
Wear green, soak in the reaching light
Don’t dress in black, like leering night
Please don’t wear black that day, because
You will not honor who I was.
Don’t dress in black, my dear, don’t cry,
I am not gone, though I may die.
– s. Clark
Days Without Regret
She paused, set her cup down to say
(And ask pardon, if it was cliche)
But she never regretted a day
When she sat down, quite out of the way,
And spent time just to read, or to pray
Or the moments spent simply to lay
Back, observing the wind at its play
And absorbing creation’s array.
– s. Clark
Happy People
Happy people!
God, I love them.
Truly diamonds in the rough,
for it’s rair as summer snowfall
to have joy when life is tough.
I’ve seen too much
of frustration,
it is everywhere you turn.
To find joy within the battle
is a true challenge to learn.
I thank God
for happy people,
fresh air through the musted mind.
Those who search out
ways to smile,
are the best that you will find.
– s. Clark
Of Happiness Lasting
The beauty of a joyous day
Cannot be marred by hateful whim
Or sorrowed words, or thoughts of gray
They shatter at the song within
And beaten, must to shrink away
To someday later, try again
– s. Clark
Light in Darkness
The stars that burn against the void
Are mirrored by the fireflies
That sparkle under twilight trees,
With fields as their expansive skies.
The moon pours down upon the sea
Shimmering milk on chocolate surf,
That makes soft gray of all the sands,
And gentle sloths the searing turf.
Beauty is not confined to day,
For in the dark and dread of night,
We see the common world anew.
Our souls can always find the light.
– s. Clark
The face of Hope is old as time,
All wizened in its waiting
While through his cracked and weathered skin,
He smiles unabating.
– s. Clark
It was a happy moment stooping low,
but only stopping by to say hello.
He asked that it step in to break its bread
or even stay the night. It shook its head,
explaining that it must be off once more
to stop in at some other person’s door,
and was regretful that it could not stay,
but he was kindly to it on its way,
So that when passing by his way again,
it might see fit to stay awhile then.
– s. Clark
Poetry by Shigé Clark 