Sunday, April 21, 2013

Recent events have weighed heavily on my heart. The Boston and Texas tragedies serve as a reminder of how precious life is. Too often we take it all for granted. I spent time in Massachusetts and I thought of all the people I knew that could have been particpating and/or watching the marathon. After all it was Patriots Day.

Sometimes we go through our days oblivious to others around us. Lately, I find myself watching/studying people. I am not sure why. It is something that I have done for years off and on. It has given me many things to write about. Sometimes you can feel the life of a stranger...you can walk around in their heart and mind maybe just a little bit.

I wanted to write about some of the people and/or events I witnessed in the last couple of weeks.

Ancient Eyes

I watched a man today,
He must have been a hundred years old.
What he wanted to say...
Was left untold.

I stand as his proxy,
Because no one seemed to hear,
No on seemed to see
And no one seemed to care.

An ancient man shuffles down the street,
Handing out smiles to the children there.
He gazes into defeat
As the children just stare.

My friend continues on slow moving feet
Passing out a random good day,
But again...he is beat
When he is told to go away.

With his eyes cast down
He rounds the bend
In search of anyone who will listen.
In quest of the friend he has been missing.

To catch up I quicken my pace
Ready to take in a tale or two.
I looked up into a lined face
Revealing all that he had been through.

Why did it take so many tries?
I wondered
As I looked into those smiling ancient eyes.

© Cheryl Wilcox 2013




Strangers in My path

She asks me if she's pretty,
A furrow in her brow.
I tell her she is beautiful
Peace envelops her now.

He smiles at me
With laughter in his eyes.
I smile back at him,
He is caught by surprise.

In silence, he tells me
The story of his life.
He doesn't need to please me,
I've seen the grief and strife.

He doesn't want me to know
What his life is all about
That he lives on the streets,
Hungry inside and out.

I smile at him
Acceptance he doesn't realize
When I look at him,
I see Jesus in his eyes.

© Cheryl Wilcox 2013

Until our paths cross again.

4 comments:

  1. Wonderful, Cheryl. Easy to visualize with your poetry. ~hugs 'n giggles~

    Peabea (Patricia Bird)

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  2. Thank you Pat for your kind words of encouragement. I have been working on character sketches. I hope to put a collection together by Christmas for my friends and family. It will be interesting to see if they can figure out who they are. Might add photos too. Thank you for reading the blog

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  3. Like a tapestry-
    Our lives . . .
    And Theirs . . .
    With bold colors, and also muted ones
    Colors that travel all through the fabric-
    Consistent, lasting
    While others are threaded through-
    Barely noticeable
    Without seeing with internal eyes-
    Nothing missing . . .
    Nothing wasted . . .

    LOVE your blog gal! Your insights never fail. Beautiful! :)


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  4. Thank You anonymous....love your Tapestry!

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