WITH THE RISING OF THE SON

In the morning he rises like the son
his parents wanted him to be. From sunrise
until the next morning, he worked hard. All in honor
of the parents who wanted him. Now, none
of that matters. Since his parents demise,
he’s been left holding all the cards.
He wanted to do more in their honor
than to be just a son rising in mourning. He worked hard.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

NaPoWriMo 2016 – Day #14: “Write a San San (Form) Poem”

WHISPERS OF LOVE

Soft insinuations play within this vacuous heart. It starts as the spark that memory allows to smolder. A siren’s call within my head displaces dread and heartache. Here within these gates, among the marble pillars; stones and obelisks to mark each valiant soul, and I take time out to stand before her. Sunset near breaking, taking its time to shine upon this cold place. Her face, behind closed eyes, tender touches of hands so soft, serenity’s surrogate reminding me time and again. Calling in telepathic tones, my name in her voice, her name in my ear. Laments of love return in silent whispers, hand reaching, beseeching the spirits to rest and allow me the same. And still I hear my name. Whispers of love never die!

In the name of love
moments fleeting in the heart
start to fill our days

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge 2016 – Day #14: “Time Out”

MEMOIR OF ME AT THREE

I was a clumsy kid and I always hid in out of the way places. I could be found atop of the refrigerator… in the pigeon coop… under the front porch… I carried a “torch” for the girl next door (she was much older) all of four. We’d have walks in the pram holding hands and sleeping together (under the trees in the park.) I recall being afraid of the dark. I loved my mom and dad. I had a sister and two brothers (with others in my future.) I got skinned knees and sutures. Certainly a silent sort, never resorting to words then when a good hand gesture would suffice. It was a very nice life for me when I remember me at three.

My youth seems to play
in the rafters of my mind,
finding comfort there.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

RAVI WALKED AWAY

Life became the burden that he carried,
over rocky terrain, through the rainstorms,
that ravaged his land. He had been married
until they had buried his true love; in his soul
she lives still, and he has kept her so.
Ravi’s business suffered through his absence;
his existence hardly felt and it served to deal
a blow to his ambition. His heart laden with
more baggage now, ached – not just emotionally.
His children did not understand how a man
could be so devoted to others. For in his mind,
they were sisters and brothers upon his journey.
Life had sharpened its edge on the flinty surface
of Ravi’s despair, until Ravi walked away. And it was
there that he found what men through the ages
have failed to achieve. Peace. True inner peace.
When all else crumbled around him,
he became the foundation; the pillar upon which
to secure everything he had built. He held no anger,
harbored no guilt. He had been possessed by calmness
the likes of which he had never seen outside of himself.
There was no selfishness in his discovery. He had become
a purveyor of peace; an agent to foster togetherness.
And he found it alone in a happy heart.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge 2016 – Day 14: “Time Out”