Poetry (guest post)

Poetry is one of the greatest reflections of the human soul. It speaks from great depths. It reveals the shared struggles and emotions of humanity. Sometimes a reader may understand exactly what the writer is expressing and other times the reader may find a whole different/personal meaning to the words that someone else has written; both are beautiful. Reading what other people are willing to share has enriched my own inner landscape of thought and emotion, most notably when the writer speaks from deep within the depths of the soul, truth, and heart. The following are poems written by Matthew Lamar Mills that I felt were worth sharing; good stuff.

Exhalation

From within I see all that was me/ now, without, excess worries and doubt/ Detached from the ground/ I am no longer bound/ free from the old/ a new story to be told/ Sitting, listening, waiting with wonder/ beneath this oak my mind aches with hunger/ "How, where, and why!," with a smile my heart does cry/ As my love of freedom grows, my spirits patience dies/ Never before with one breath, have I tasted freedom so strong/ not a watch in this world could tell how I've waited so long/ So bright are these hues/ these shades of life/ erased are the days of worries and strife/ Not erased/ only dull/ for the point is now moot and gray/ blurred by the orange-red sun of this new mornings day/ Breathe in deep and exhale the release/ repeat as the body flows with peace/ Thoughts not of the past or future or how/ only focus on this moment/here and now. 

The Dove of Peace

Heaven sent is this Dove so white,

Its feathers stirring through the air so light.

It lands atop a tree with a gentle touch,

Giving all that it sees the gift of loves luck.

From tree top to roof it flies for miles,

Leaving in its gentle wake joy filled smiles.

It is known throughout as the Herald of Peace,

When its presence is seen all hatred does cease.

The years pass on and the world changes tone,

The anger of the people in time has grown.

This Dove flies still but few take notice,

In this world so cold it feels but homeless.

In all of its life it has never seen despair,

Sad and lonely the people do not care.

It wonders in its heart how to make amends,

How to these people may Heavens light descend?

And then it came the cure to their hate,

A way to bring them back to Heaven’s pure Gate.

The Dove soars up high to the peak of the clouds,

Giving its life the remove this Dark hung shroud.

As its feathers fall its body does vanish,

Once again color fills this transparent canvas.

Its feathers molt falling so light,

Giving shine to this hate filled night.

All around the world this showing is seen,

As snow crowds the ground light and love team.

“It’s just frozen water,” is what some say,

For others that know, it is the Dove of Peace that made this day.

Though not all is right, peace is given to some,

The newest to this world, that to Hate are too young.

On these days still in the coldest of frost,

The Dove flies high to show hope is not lost.

As the night winds down, I listen for a noise; a whisper, a sound, a quiet spoken voice. Nothing to break this silence, this cacophony of endless nothing; uncertain of this change, waiting, searching for something. 

Once more into transition, as I sit and wait still I listen; to be told of my path, hoping that this is my final mission. How I want to be done. To end this battle fought of one. So hard to keep pace, when my shadow is the one that I race.

Yet, still I continue, listening and waiting in wonder, for the day shall come when I cast this dark veil asunder. And stand triumphant in peace, steeled for another battle that shall not come to pass. Stronger than the wall that hides my worn, tattered past.

So, until then I listen, for the sound of that quiet spoken voice.