24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
“I heart you.” She says,
as he carves into the branch with his dull-bladed pocket knife.
His was the kind of knife a Boy Scout would have.
Only he wasn’t a Boy Scout.
The blade peeled away the bark in small flakes, eroding the trust and innocence of the protective layers.
She remembers,
”I heart you.” She whispers to herself.
Joy in her heart that the tree is thriving even though it is permanently scarred.
The Day it Rained Umbrellas
One day the sky opened,
And poured down umbrellas.
No rain in which to use them,
Just thousands of umbrellas.
Different colours, different sizes,
All styles and shapes and shades.
They hurdled down towards us,
Handles first, fully open,
Before suddenly slowing
And letting a gentle breeze guide them down,
Into waiting hands, one per person,
Choosing their new owners one by one.
People reached out and found
Their favourite colour waiting,
Or an animal shape,
Patterns, stripes, spots,
Handles of wood or plastic or metal,
Just what they would have chosen.
Small girls had pink umbrellas with unicorns on,
Disney princesses and kittens,
Or maybe a Star Wars figure,
Space rockets or spiderwebs.
Men in suits reached for rainbow stripes,
Women for bold red or rich purple.
The day the umbrellas rained down,
Magically, mysteriously.
We reached out and held on,
As the day saw not a drop of rain
But an outpouring of love
And understanding.
I wish I could hold you to my heart
I wish I could kiss you
I wish I could whisper ‘ I love you’
I wish I could hold you, never let you go
I wish I could clasp your heart to mine
I wish I could snatch you from the cold hands of death
I held your cold body in my arms
And knew I had loved but lost
I wish I could see your impudent grin again
I wish I could feel your arms around me ,again
I wish I could hear your voice asking for more cookies
You the strength of my loins
You whom I felt was my salvation
I wish you could give me one more smile
I wish you could give me one of your adoring looks
I wish you could say good bye
I wish I can find closure
I wish I can find out, why you, why us.
I wish.
Hour 4 Prompt
Letter
For my sister
we seemed easier in the days before chaos and cancer and changing into superheroes when all we needed to be was weak and open to each other so we could lean into each other while we leaned into the pain of watching her wither into silver-foil boxes of dust and fragments of something that looks nothing like her at all.
I wanted to be different while only being who I could be for her while being nothing of what you needed me to be for you while you were who you needed to be for you for her while she disappeared into the rising sun the day she left for the first and last time – your greatest fear…to live without her.
maybe that’s why you needed to push me away with both hands so hard as to throw me up against the Rockies -keeping us a safe distance from each other – until you feel strong enough to crumble against the Rockies you threw me up against.
I can’t make you feel safe enough to open your heart to the possibility that I’m not your enemy.
All I can do is wait.
So I guess I’ll do that.
I love you
r.
© r. l. elke
The dawn of the day,
sweeps my worries away –
And sheds light on some dreams long forgotten.
Sullen no more;
I am ready for
the quest.
Prepared to do my best,
And reach the highest peaks.
When the sun retreats,
I will not cry;
For I know I am left with,
the bright
expansive sky.
Alive,
with renewed purpose,
And fuelled by many verses
in this chorus of life:
Astounds me, surrounds me:
The dawn of this day,
Sweeps my past away,
And I begin again –
with new strength and new purpose,
Just around the bend.
Thirsty ground has become
Crispy stalks of breakable
Slices of deceased grass
Bright blooms have wilted
As parched petals surrender
Falling in finality
Dry gray stones revealed
The brook losing moisture
While gaining ground
Tall trees without care
Their penthouse leaves
Still luscious green
Frivolous humans
Watering their landscape
As though there is more
carved heart
never realised
how far the stars
went till i was
forced to sleep
under them
for weeks
— or rather
try to sleep
when really too
scared to dream
for fear of deserts
of orange dust
to drift too far
into the lake of milk
— so trace paths
over our heads
like branches
looking for leaves
waiting for night
to fold up like a brolly
& dawn to fill
the valley with honey
Deserts are an interesting place
Deserts are as different are you are from me
From sand and dirt to verdant waste
And as different from waters from oceans to seas
Deserts are as different are you are from me
They can be hot or cold and challenging indeed
And as different from waters from oceans to seas
If you are not careful you surely shall bleed
They can be hot or cold and challenging indeed
If you challenge the desert with an empty hand
If you are not careful you surely shall bleed
And find your dead body laid out and skin well-tanned
If you challenge the desert with an empty hand
From sand and dirt to verdant waste
And find your dead body laid out and skin well-tanned
Deserts are an interesting place
Water in a million ways,
From misty mornings, end of days,
And between which round us splays,
We shelter from its touch.
Umbrella-ed, cloud-filled plashing ‘bout
To rampant tears that trickle out,
And both wash away the hurtful doubt.
We shelter from their chill.
Where stars reflect their bronze-bright glow,
In silent lakes and river flow,
And trees stretch aloft as they grow,
To caress the Maker’s robe.
The carver
I didn’t agree.
Carving a tree seemed heartless to me.
But you had gone into he-man mode.
Your face was stony while you carved.
Focused.
Relentless.
For all that, we have a small heart
out of place on a somber tree.
I might have said no.
But I didn’t.
You might have understood me.
But you didn’t.
That heart is not a tribute.
It’s a scar.