Rain is a promise
Haiku:
A stormy morning
Quiet through the troubled clouds
Nature is on display
@ copyright : CMM. 2018
Sticks and Stones
Is it the hunger of children
that brings the beast to prowl.
Crying out the souls of poverty as
sticks and stones lay down their head.
Salty tears drying just below
the eyes of today’s forgotten,
dripped onto the little feet
without footprints to follow.
Callused soles of traveled miles,
rubbed into the distain of nothingness,
from thick leather boots stepping
on the fear of the lost children.
Copyrighted: 2018 CMM
He Came
As the chickadee finds its nest,
among the prickly leaf…
The labored Mother sighs
as birthing finds relief…
Then nature joins a chorus,
among the star they sing…
Humanity realized His birth
of the Resurrection King…
He came among the world
in quiet winter’s rest…
Chickadee without notice
continues to make his nest…
Copyrighted: CMM 2003
Listening
She was listening
voices around her unaware
she lies in waiting
she was listening
to the tears
the consolations
she was listening
when someone whispered
to her, I love you.
listening to the voices
leaving the room for a moment
and then she left…
Copyrighted: CMM 2017
Knell Bell
Ash, fallen losing its form,
drifting to places—
Places once given to life
now void in the body.
Blemished leavings of
perfect love and life—
Spent time, celebrations
now void in the mind.
Consciousness
to awareness made up
of dreams and hopes,
now void in the soul.
The ticking of the clock,
the clanging echoing,
noises made in the senses,
now void in the hearing.
Spoken words of promise
of heart felt memories
devoted love forever—
now void in heart.
We have heard many
warnings, sounding often
in the distance, never noticed—
until we hear the ringing.
Knell bell
final sounding—
Echo without vibrations,
muted sounds, never heard; but felt.
copyrighted: CMM 2002
Four Poster Bed
That four poster bed and me at the foot…
was the beginnings of beginnings
and the irony it took.
My Mother’s plight to come back home,
when our Father’s fights,
were all we had known.
Grandparents adjusting
and opening their doors,
no one needed to sleep on the floor.
The nights we laid, kittens in bed,
me at the foot,
as they snuggled at the head.
Quilts laid busy acoss us just right,
four poster jammed,
with three quite a sight.
As we grew older and given each a bed,
I will never forget the four poster bed,
me at the foot and they at the head.
I wonder in life when all things askew
and the trials I endured
whether old or renewed.
If being at the foot of this bed
gave me the will to survive,
in keeping my head.
© CMM 2002
Santa Came Too Soon
A voice so loud, I do remember,
Early evening, in late December
“Ho ho ho”, with a thunderous caugh,
Waking from slumber, we began to laugh.
Why was he here and we not asleep?
As our grandfather yelled, “kids come take a peep.”
“It looks as though Santa has come too soon,
You are awake and giggling in your room.”
We tip toed and peered around the hall to see,
a bearded man, red suit, looking back at me.
“Ho Ho Ho”, he winked and continued to sound.
“You are awake and wide eyed, I have found.”
We stood there in awe, and not a word said,
He hugged us, “Now get back to your bed.”
I remember the night, Santa came too soon.
As I tried to fall asleep, that night in my room.
Copyrighted: 2016 CMM
Eagle and Child Inkling 