
1.
it must be painful for them to write, those poets in tough-times and hard places
where blood and tears and poverty contaminate the air, stain the sidewalks, and consume the people
the blood must be soul-sick and rusted and tasting of acid, not salt,
and the poems meant to heal the writer and stroke the cheeks of the wounded,
to dry their eyes and gently kiss their gray heads
to poem in such places must be like walking shoeless on glass shards
perhaps the most sacred thing in the dream-time meadow of poets’ desire is Light ~
can you awaken to meet the Divine on the battlefield, in the camps, in government housing or in the ghettos?
if so, you are a saint, not simply an artist
2.
in my small world, my civilized world, people fall asleep reading or after making love or playing in the yard with their children
if they wander, it is through books or planned travel
there are luxuries
there is food
there is cleanliness and paper on which to write
no bombs are dropping to scorch and scar the Earth
there is a certain dignity
3.
in San Francisco we walk along the beach at night, near the Cliff House
we walk to the sound of the waves, the song of the Earth chanting its joys
our feet are bare and relish the comfort of cool sand
the air is clear and cold and easy to breathe, tasting of salt and smelling of sea life ~
here is a pristine moment of peace
i want to bequeath this peace to you, to everyone,
as though it were a cherished heirloom
it is really a birthright
i want to plunge into the waters and gather the ocean in my cupped hands, to offer it to you as sacramental wine
i want to form seaweed into garlands for all of us to wear, to hang over our hearts, a symbol of affection
i want to collect pine cones from the trees that congregate along the coast and feed them to the children to remind them to cherish this Earth and all its creatures, themselves included, and to say …
do not make war in your heart or upon your mother’s body
© 2016, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved; Photo credit ~ BrokenInaglory via Wikipedia under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported
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Some of us take so much for granted. The love and grace flowing through your poem soothes the soul, Jamie.
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I’m glad you feel that it does. Thanks for taking the time to visit and comment, Gayle.
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Reblogged this on My Poetry Library and commented:
This carries with it, not only a poetic expression of love, but also a very special message … from the pen of Jamie Dedes
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Thank you, John! Blessings …
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You’ve put into superb words what many of us think. Health and happiness to you this coming year…
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Thank you and to you too. Blessings!
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And to you, Clarrisa.
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May the new year bring more peace than war…best wishes for this holiday season to you and yours.
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Amen, Charlie, and ditto that. Thank you!
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Beautiful. Happy Christmas.
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And same to you and a peaceful and joyous 2017.
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Wow
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