I can’t help but fear, look to my species and tremble,- Mandee Carter – flickr creative commons
My heart cries for them by night.
My soul speaks to them by day and
my loving arms can never quite reach far and wide enough
to hold them all within my love.
They say – your time is precious and
your heart too weak to carry their burdens.
They say – take time for yourself,
don’t get in too deep;
but deep are the cuts they inflict on their frail and shaking wrists
deep, is the hole our society has dug for them and
deep is how far I will go in order to pull up the hands of those who need me.
They say you will burn out
but the only burning I feel is the fire of love in my heart.
The only burning I see are the tears
that burn tracks of sadness down their defeated faces.
My heart will burn endlessly for them like a candle,
like a candle that burns and sacrifices its wax,
only to give light to a dark room for a short time.
I will burn for them.
You are light – I want to tell them
You are beauty – I want them to see
You are all that you need and more
And you are the love inside of me.
Society has failed you
Your parents too tired to see,
Your own self you seem to have lost,
But you will find solace in me.
By Raffi Daliri
I read this beautiful poem from Raffi Daliri on facebook today and asked her if I could share it as it’s full of ripples light.
It reminds me of this quote ‘The child must know that he is a miracle, that since the beginning of the world there hasn’t been, and until the end of the world there will not be, another child like him.’ Pablo Casals (Spanish Cellist and Conductor)” – June Perkins
Do you like your ice cream plain
Or rippled?
Is inspiration a limpid pond
Or rippling rapids?
In your dream house is every room high-gloss smooth
Or rippled with texture?
On shapely stockinged leg have you spied
A baggy ankle ripple?
Have you cursed the laminator that leaves
A ripple across the middle?
Do you gaze at your aging face and deplore
The deepening ripples?
Repetition of a strong melodic line
With ripples of harmony.
Across a still landscape – transformation –
A ripple of wind
On a low-cloud black night – change –
Ripples of moonlight.
Ripple Poetry 