These four poems were written by me many years ago, and only recently discovered within the pages of a workbook - holding their secrets until my world had a place to share them.
Why did Atlas shrug?
Simply to lighten the load?
or a sign, to an uncaring world, that
soon he would choose another road?
Paths aren't by nature rough.
With potholes, and ditches, and sand.
Experience trips the most weary
travelers, at moments too tired to stand.
Simplicity is, what is-
And when jacuzzi bubbles are stripped away
Life isn't nearly as heavy
As Atlas felt that day.
Rebecca was my childhood friend
Perfectly dressed, with curls of gold.
A painted smile on her plastic face
She never let me down.
Branches reaching to the sky, sillouettes
Of a child reaching down.
Faith that a hand up can come
From the most unlikely places.
Do I discard these simple icons,
Strength from hope so pure and true?
And even hands which grasp with strength
Can't always make me whole again.
When once again we take a stand
Serious as it will be
And vow to love each other well
Will we now know, with hearts filled up
The best that we can be?
Will we remember other times
Of deep disparity?
Will the knowing then make sense
Of vows too young to tell,
That life gives both the good and bad-
The Heaven and the Hell.