because we remember, remember
when times weren't plentiful,
the larder grown bare, except the last cannings
of tomatoes, peaches and pears.
We give up lost ideals where we dreamed
that we could make a difference,
under the cold stare of money counting barons
who trickle out, according to how much you hurt
until you dump pride for a fake love gone bad.
We pin our clothes together, darn old socks,
we skip one meal, wait out the first greens
climbing up the poles and fleshing into peas,
and want bunnies to come out from hiding
not for eggs but for dinner's stew.
This is when we say, are we the chosen?
Wonder what act of God or nature or man
will sweep on through, and though we bled out,
marked our porches with our pain,
we shiver and cry and ache, for the losses
passing over us, all the insignificance of being,
clutching inside like tattered shreds, hope
like a song of rising wonder, or the release
of scattered brain and hungry lizard
from our domain to live on, on, on past the hungry
tongue of the beast come to catch us unaware.
Published by Sheri Fresonke Harper
Sheri works as a freelance writer, novelist and poet. She worked in the aviation industry at the Port of Seattle and Boeing Company for 20 years as a systems analyst/architect where she edited and wrote over... View profile
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15 Comments
Post a CommentI agree holy week is a good time for reflection. Lovely poem, and so glad that we don't have to go hungry today. I am very grateful and very sad for those who still go hungry.
Easter and Jesus' sacrifice is definitely a time to reflect. good job.
Excellent writing! Thanks for sharing :)
Good one and I like the ending.
What sparked this? The hopelessness and pain in it was palpable and such a contrast to the hope and joyous renewal I am feeling at this time of Jesus Christ's Resurrection.
Welldone! *****
Excellent reflection and a terrific reminder of why we should all be thankful.
Beautiful stanzas
An outstanding poem. Indeed there is some pain involved in being one of his "chosen" ones (and all are chosen who want him). God does not promise us a painfree life while we live, he only promises us comfort when we are hurting. As I wrote in one poem, "Oh how awful and sweet it is to be touched by God." I lost some friends and readers over that one! Have a happy Passover/Easter season
Well said...raises many questions.