Poetry by Shigé Clark

"Let the battered heart rejoice"



Something Beautiful, remastered

The winter and recent pendulum-swing of weather had me thinking of this poem for #ThrowbackThursday, and I decided to remaster it!

I hope each of you experiences beauty today. ☺️

Theme Week: Spring – 1

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

Theme Week: Spring and New Growth – 2


We all must face the winter
Cutting cold into our lives,
At some point we all stand against the storm.
We sink in sorrow’s icy depths
And pray that we survive,
Forgetting how it once felt to be warm.
At times we may freeze over,
Numbing fire from our blood,
Blunting mind and limb with shards of fear,
And some of us have laid ourselves
Beneath the snowy flood,
And never thought the avalanche would clear.
But winter is a season,
It comes only for a while,
Though we bear scars forever to explain.
The light will always follow,
And we learn again to smile,
And flowers of compassion grow from pain.
Leaves of peace will bloom upon
The forest of our grief,
The robin will return again to sing.
Though winter seems eternal,
Do not give it your belief.
Our hearts will always come again to spring.

– s. Clark

Theme Week: Spring and New Growth – 1

Emerging Spring

Old man Winter sat upon his stoop
Puffing frosty breath into the air,
Cracked his brittle knuckles as he gazed,
Brushed his icy slippers on the stair.
Looking back, he called into the house,
“Child, it is time to rise from bed.
My stay here is passed, and yours is nigh,
Wake, and shake the cold out from your head.
Earth awaits the sunshine of your smile,
For its warmth to melt the crystal snow,
And it craves the sweet scent of your breath
To expel the frigid winds that blow.
Come, dear, there are frozen trees and fields
Waiting for your touch to make them bloom.
You will bring no beauty to the world
Painting light into your silent room.”
As he sat with flowing beard and robes
Rolling full and white onto the floor,
Came a tiny head of floret hair
Bobbing up to hide against the door.
He raised up his hand and waved her on,
So with timid grin and swishing skirt,
Spring danced out to join him on the stoop,
Dainty feet and fingers dyed with dirt.
Laughing, she reached out her tiny arms
Greeting earth, and as her gladness spread,
So the warmth she held. Until at last,
Winter rose, and softly went to bed.

– s. Clark

Theme week: Nature Personified – 1

Gentle Winter

The winter washes white
Across the mountains, and
Its breath upon the land
Blows frost into he night.
It whispers to the rain
To slow its forceful fall,
And, at the pleaful call,
Drift down upon the plain.
It sings a sweet duet
Upon the crispen breeze
With all the swaying trees
Of how they first had met.
It curls into the hair
Of people passing by,
With just a gentle sigh
To say that it was there.

– s. Clark

In This Moment

She is happy
With her twinkling Christmas lights
And her candles
Lighting up the frosty nights
Fuzzy blankets
Soft and snuggly in her bed
Apple cider
Cinnamon goes to her head
She is happy

– s. Clark

Frosted Rose

She was lovely, true, but cold.
Frozen heart in velvet skin.
Far too rigid to unfold,
Petals locked the beauty in.
And, though pleasing to behold,
Chose belated to begin.
Winter is not kind, she’s told,
Bloomed while wilting, brown and thin.

– s. Clark

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