408. Where is Hope?

Hope-May Spring went outside to sing,

And play among the flowers.

Her days were spent frolicking,

And dancing ‘way the hours,

In the sun.

One day she walked upon the stage,

To sing her song aloud.

She stepped bravely across the stage,

And sang out strong and proud:

Joyously.

Applause rang out through the room,

And Hope-May was o’erjoyed,

To have touched hearts within that room,

Her smile could not avoid…

Joining in.

Joy can’t last forever though,

And no story is so kind,

For as soon as it was time to go,

Her mother voiced her mind:

“Not the worst”.

Strangers praised her performance,

Yet her mother looked on sternly.

Her songs could never seem to dance,

Their way in mother’s heart to free…

Approval.

Through the years she heard no praise;

Nor laud. Nor compliment.

And soon she felt her mother’s gaze,

Was always there and sent…

Shivers down.

Ah, that voice was always there.

Always echoing: “Never enough!”,

Until the joy she used to share,

Sang out soft and gruff;

And empty.

Her joy, her mother ate it all;

Served with criticism and jeers.

Hope-May ate the meals all,

And swallowed down her tears…

In silence.

Hope-May Spring used to sing.

It’s said she sang quite well;

Though now she does not like to sing,

Nor does she ever tell…

Of her heart.

Though sometimes she dreams secretly,

Of those days so long ago,

When her heart was given joyously,

And hope could freely flow;

From her veins.

Hope-May Spring will sometimes sing,

And smile vacantly;

Though if you listen to her sing,

You’ll hear a sad and desperate plea:

“Where is Hope?”.

K. Aldaya, 7/13/17

Advertisements

387. Lullaby of the Lost

Song Link

Where do the dead go and who can follow?

Will you go to where they lie?

Will you search the darkest hollow,

To find the truth before we die?

Where do the lost go and who will find them?

Does anyone care they’re gone?

Who will pull-out each thorny rose stem,

Upon their heads when they are gone?

Where do our thoughts go and who will remember,

The sufferings of this mortal coil?

The fires of life shed each ember,

Of we who soon become it’s soil.

Where do the cursed go and who will love them,

When they’ve become all we fear?

Who will care to find and hold them?

Who will mourn or shed a tear?

Where do the dead go and who can follow?

Will you go to where they lie?

Will you search the darkest hollow,

To save the lost before they die?

K. Aldaya, 3/1/17

Picture: by: Branimir Jaredic; http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/1-branimir-jaredic.html?tab=artwork; http://www.magazineim.com/home/index.php/collaborators/branimir-jaredic/#7

313. Eternal Light

underwater-sunlight-takau99

The light streams down,

And reaches out to me,

Like the hand of a God,

Painting destiny.

Oh, what I would do,

To reach and clasp that light!

The touch of heaven on skin:

Warm and ember-bright.

If only I had wings,

I’d fly into the sky,

To destiny, immortality,

On an etheric lullaby.

The light shines down,

And reaches out to me,

And though I sink, I sing,

And it ripples,…into eternity.

K. Aldaya, 7/24/15

Picture: takau99: https://www.flickr.com/photos/thailandbeach/; http://fineartamerica.com/featured/underwater-sunlight-takau99.html