Take This Poem Of Mine
Poetry must always be a secret, that's how it weaves its spell.
Take this poem of mine
and rip it from your heart
for it is there – finished
it just needs your start.
Take this poem of mine
and remember through
the pain this place parades,
remember the words
each sound a blow to the head
a wage that is true.
Take this poem of mine
and wear it,
a yellow star of David
a flag, a declaration
that this blood-crazed world of
mundane murder
will not seep into your
more red, more rare heart.
Take this poem of mine
and read it aloud
to your too true children.
Read it in a voice
that sends, that shows
the same sign
that is all song, all sense that flows.
Take this poem of mine
and tear it up.
Digest it, mend it,
be it
and walk on and of this world
as it
a song that is free,
singing in each of your steps.
Take this poem of mine
weak like a calm wind,
slow like the forest’s green,
young like a motherless child,
simple like spring’s sun,
take this poor poem of mine
and make it your own.
Only then shall the doors open
and the wind wander through,
only then will the heart rise
and the act, be what we do.
Take this poem of mine …….