Poetry 17
(c) Candace
I live in the shadows of others' lives,
Rarely feeling the sunlight of living on my face,
Never knowing the security and peace
That comes from having a secure and loving space.
But I know what the light is all about -
We've heard the stories passed from heart to heart
Of those who used to have a space
And through no fault found their lives at a new start.
Was it so hard to care for them?
You put them out, alone and afraid, and you moved on.
Could you not see their hurt and loss?
The pain they felt when the love they had known was gone?
That is how we came to be . . . . .
Wild, unwnated, living a life filled with struggles and worries,
A life of fear and uncertainty
Wanting only the sunlight we know only from the stories.
At some point you made us disposable.
Know that we are each unique - a heart, a soul, and a life.
We crave the light, the hope, and the love.
So we hold to the dream to move from the shadows to the light.
When we leave this life our fortunes will divide to others, our monuments will eventually crumble, and our accomplishments will be surpassed - the only true legacy we can leave is the love and wisdom we instill in those we leave behind to continue what we have begun.
In the cool misty morning I sit in wonder
In awe of the majesty of the just born day
Dreamily recall the revelations of the night
So many truths now fall clearly into play
For nothing there was truly as it then seemed
And the smallest stood tall in company grand
And the one who stood alone never was alone
For the others stood there with her hand in hand
But in her wide spread wings hid the truth
And as the focus was on her, small and alone
What the other did not, could not hope to see
Stood hidden so quietly by gossamer tones
Small and hidden watching the world
Avoid the changes wrought by time
Allow life to pass by - a flower unfurled
Content to watch - to changes decline
But even when forstalled - time moves on
And all are guided by the creator's hand.
So one day I awoke - changes had begun
Trapped in a chrysalis knowing not his plan
For the stirring and shifting so long forstalled
Progressing now unbidden of it's own accord
Unable to return to a world so fondly recalled
Unsure what changes the chrysalis will afford
So it is time is written and passes, unbidden
We stumble through a plan we may never see
And though the story's end from us is hidden
It will unfold as our creator intended it to be
