Impressions of words

Credit- Gordon Anderson

when we were young–

with the innocence of lambs

words flew like rapid-fire bullets

catapulting us through sling-shots

when we were young–

words left fingerprints all over

that forged who we’d  become

impressions and punched annihilations

When we were young–

thunderstorms whipped and cracked

as lighting flashed with cursing words

that covered the mirrors of ourselves

when we were young–

those words ached and they cringed

paralysing us underneath hidden fears

brimming our eyes with sobbing tears

when we were young–

we  really did not understand

the meaning of those hateful words

now trapped in dark passages of time

now that we are young–

to a world of new translations

we know there are spaces and places

between the words and their shadows

now that we are young:

those words can dress up in new clothes

dance wildly beneath the thunderstorm

take a bow beneath rainbow’s radiance

Now that we are young !

Something happened

I was a dusty, weary wayfarer

bruised and limping on bare feet

The night had been far too long

my heart, stone-heavy and dark

But something happened

The first rays of the sun sneaked in

carefully bathing my sullied skin

Fresh winds untangled my hair

and I found you sitting right there

Yes, something happened

Though strangers, we were kindred spirits

perhaps I was taller, but only in height

On this new day, we both had a chance

to brush the soot off our chimney-souls

I know that something happened

It always does when a new sun rises

filling us with unexpected surprises

No matter our distinction and persuasion

the new day levels for us a new haven

Something happened to us today

Another chance to stand, start afresh

another moment to fall back in love

with life itself and our own raison d’être

It’s ours now, let’s absolve their blame.

Something is happening to all of us today.

Another dawn breaks

Dilemma sits still

in the corner of the room,

waiting in silence

for a sign of commitment,

a nod of acquiescence.

Days turn into night,

Procrastination the thief

who swindles our funds,

bankrupting our loyalty

with sacrifice and blood earned.

Another dawn breaks,

filled with hope to overcome

the deep malignant malaise,

wish flags will fly in full mast

to new vibrant glory days.