Poetry...

Poem 1.

Bethesda

Set perfectly within a great city's sanctuary, you are there.
Not an attraction to me but a belief.

A belief in protectors, heavenly teachers.
Angel's do exist,
sent by a power greater than myself,
to guide, to comfort, to share in moments.

Mine is there,
early in the morning with the day's first light,
in the perfect light of a sunset,
in a crashing wave, in a genuine smile,
in the warmth that overcomes me giving me hope.

Bethesda,
you give form to presence that has always been there.


Poem 2.

Identity.

Breeze...
candle extinguished.

Breeze...
reflection distorted.

nauseating, grotesque image remains,
Picasso's interpretation,
acutely aware,
million different voices create static.
personal presence non-existent.

Cleansing breathe restores conviction destroys apprehension.

With breath illumination,
with belief calmness.

Determine soul unquestioning,
an optimistic believer,
full of hope,
a refugee to safe harbor,
if only for a moment,
steadfastly existing among light.