This is a day
fates have made.
Faith finds maker's hands
under roof of need
over weary world,
such strange and awful timbers.
Africa bled into the seas
and washed Americas in red
and the home of People
tendering as they saw by right
snatched away, in brutal greed
beyond measure.
Yet treasure my place
and those with me 'neath
the great sun we share;
for all of the pain
and unforgettable waste
that made us, somehow
the course of the world
has been sustained;
from that place to this
of noble sacrifice
and taking without shame,
we owe it to all
who came before
to live for memory;
pour wine upon the ground
consecrate the loss, in prayers
and have happiness
purchased at such a price.
In a list
A contest entry
- Cultural Day Of Mourning, But Circling Back to Gratitude by CarolDesjarlais.
1200 points, ended November 22, 2007, 3 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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Well said PK...congrats on the gold...and sigh your blessing in grateful lines...
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Thank you Rich-
for your kind words, congrats on your wonderful poem and Silver...PK
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Oh what a poem of honor and udnerstanding... I am in awe and grateful for the pen that wrote this.
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What a beautiful spiritual masterpiece to behold...
Happy Thanksgiving my friend
Lynda
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Wow... holds much depth... is a myriad of wonder to my imagination.
I realy enjoyed reading this piece and your thoughtful, insightful awareness.
Well done... good luck in the contest
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