Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The WORLD is a poem...

Upon waking up on each new day,
you face a variety of views, of people,
animals, things, events or scenes...
They start to unfold before you,
they capture your eyes and
stimulate your imagination.
It could be a spectacle, a tearjerker,
sometimes, an eyesore...
from the nearest place,
right there in your garden,
reaching out to the farthest in sight...

A rose is a poem in itself,
from its leaves, down to its roots,
to the colors that adorn its whole being
even the thorns on its tough stem
have messages to relay
they are loud verses themselves...

The birds by the trees that greet you
early in the morning,
the geese, always in a huddle,
chatting, honking with the others,
near or far from the water,
those who stray further,
waddle by the nearest puddle,
seemingly interested at first sight of a human being...

The lonely eyed cats and dogs on the streets,
with no roofs on their heads, rain or shine,
just like the homeless people, the street children,
there's a lot to read from their faces..

An after breakfast walk
could take you to the streams ...
walk further and you see the bigger seas,
roam your eyes, to reach those hills and plateaus
all have hidden stories to tell...

The seasons of the year,
slowly shifting from one to the next,
they make themselves known to you
through the changing colors of the leaves,
the hibernation of some animals, the naked trees,
much more of God's miracles are revealed,
abounding,
amidst your surroundings,
just open your eyes...

The sun, the moon and the stars
the comets and meteors flashing across
a firmament of blue or charcoal black,
give you so much to wonder about...
they, too, are sources of rhymes,
they are a flowing spring
of vital informations
Teeming with inspirations...

Morbid, scary thoughts accompany
a cold coffin, but
maybe a chest of drawers,
an overloaded bag, a blender,
a faded and dilapidated chair, a table,
or the old but firm toothbrush
could generate a lot of positive thoughts...
Even a whole kitchen
would speak if it could,
you just have to pause and see,
feel, listen to what they express
in their silence...

Those bridges you cross
sometimes by car, other times, by foot,
they connect you to distant friends, relatives
or people you've never met, never seen
people who are deprived, abused,
hungry, even killed...
bridges take you to places where a battle is
about to start, or already raging,
where help is needed...but never given...
bridges are brimming with events to share,
they would have spoken...
but they could not,
it is up to you to be sensitive enough
you must be aware, you must know...

Every thing, every one on earth
has a message to impart
All of you are to be their voices...

You should be most grateful,
and love this WORLD you live in
it is a most precious gift from GOD,
You should all be one in saving the source,
a great volume of verses:
this universe....

Save me, now...
I am your poem,
I am the WORLD.



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
From out of the blue, these words came out.
I am keeping my fingers crossed...
house is mouse quiet
walking down the
hallway
in
the dark
step on a malevolent
lego brick, swear mightily

this epitomises my day...

now to crawl into bed
and pray tommorrow
the vagrant gods like me...
Even if I forget your beautiful name
that moved my heart day and night like a poem,
silver light in your eyes and your lissome form
all in a moment of insanity or oblivion
a foamy deluge, takes me in, when it comes
looking for each one of us, even civilizations;
who can stop that incessant flow from past
to the time to come, an irrefutable canon!
                                But nature would never forget
the lightening, at it's strike creating a diamond, effulgent,
the mutual intimate wanting, divine, beyond the realm
of human emotions,carved out equally from our psyches
like a gem stone cutter precisely does, with his sharp chisel
in a rare moment of revelation, will it be repeated ever again?

A  brilliance, hearts  struck, emitting echoes of love
though no more we would be in human realm
If only one could imagine a  love  beyond the limits of being
four twenty three,
antipodean time
and i am caught,
wide awake
between, my thoughts
and the sounds of
a snoring husband
and a cat purring
hungrily....
for an early breakfast.

i have a feeling,
no... i have a knowing.
this is...
going to be a long, long day.
Next page