I hear them breathing
and in the dim light of the luminescent clock,
I see the gentle rise of the covers and
their subtle movements
walking to their room,
the cold of the hard floor on my feet
had seeped into my heart,
but it was not cold enough to numb
the panic I felt.
kneeling in my underwear by their bed.
at 4:00 a.m.
things are better than I thought
mom and dad are here, asleep,
and I know I am not alone.
the terror invoked by my dreams recedes.
touching their sleeping feet -
just to make sure,
I turn and tiptoe back to bed,
I will sleep again,
the dreams will return,
but for now,
for just this moment,
I am not afraid.
Have you ever wanted or even longed for something that always seemed to be out of your grasp? If so, then maybe you can identify with this poem.
A Pause of Thought
by Christina Rossetti
I looked for that which is not, nor can be,
And hope deferred made my heart sick in truth
But years must pass before a hope of youth
Is resigned utterly.
I watched and waited with a steadfast will:
And though the object seemed to flee away
That I so longed for, ever day by day
I watched and waited still.
Sometimes I said: This thing shall be no more;
My expectation wearies and shall cease;
I will resign it now and be at peace:
Yet never gave it o’er.
Sometimes I said: It is an empty name
I long for; to a name why should I give
The peace of all the days I have to live?–
Yet gave it all the same.
Alas, thou foolish one! alike unfit
For healthy joy and salutary pain:
Thou knowest the chase useless, and again
Turnest to follow it.
You can read all the poetry of Christina Rossetti and thousands of other books for free in your email. Go to DailyLit here for more information.
DaddyRob posted this on his blog (see link below), and I liked it so much I thought I would post it here as well.
Could it be that the voice of God on Easter sounds a lot like Shel Silverstein?
Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child,
Listen to the DON’TS
Listen to the SHOULDN’TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me –
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.
— Where the Sidewalk Ends
A Poem for Easter
Mon, 05 Apr 2010 02:12:46 GMT