The Pope of Hope


As most people here in the Tri-State area, we have seen the presentations and masses pronounced by Pope Francis of the the Holy Seas and many of us have been deeply touched by his message of Love and Peace. This is my poem to honor his visit. I also tried painting his friendly face with all due respect.

Skies of crystal blue prevailed today
As the Pope of Hope
Like Jesus did walked among us

Even for those who were not too close
deep emotions did not fail
to energize and fill all hearts
with glory and hopeful dreams

As he waved to thousands
On what now will be the Holy urban trail
Worshipers screamed,
called out his name,
and cried sweet tears
for this Pope of the People
had washed away their fears.
For many today
Life will not be the same
History records impatiently
The sounds and sights today
Pope Francis of the Holy Sea
Prays for you and me and
For even the non-believer
All he wants is Peace to be a reality.

Pope Francis 2 by Melba

He asked us all to restore our hope
To resolve our differences with respect
For we must live as one
He asked us all to educate the young.

Future generations
must learn the lessons well;
To build our oneness
and fraternal love,
To restore a Nation of Freedom for all
This is our divine call.

He said to Remember the Golden Rule.
Our faces may be different yes
But our hearts beat all the same
Some filled with passion and compassion
Love can only be our gain.

Thank you Pope Francisco of the Holy Sea
for your humble presence and
your words of inspiration.

With Gratitude and Remembrance
I think we will see clearly now,
And forever more.
No more smog or clouds
to block our vision and sincere affirmations
For deep down in our hearts
We know this to be true
United we stand
and in God We Trust.

God bless America

and Pope Francis,

God bless you too.

On Being an Abuela


This post is about my first grandson. I reblog it today on Grandparent’s Day.

Melba Christie at Poemattic

I do not know well

his habits

or his favorite color,

I do not know

the sounds he’s curious about

or the meaning of his hearty shout

or what fascinates him more

about himself

when he sees

his image in the mirror

and greets himself

with a chuckle

calling out his own name.

I want to know more about

the things he fears,

the questions he’ll form as he watches the trees sway

and catches a glimpse of his shadow

as it follows him

faithfully.

and quietly

I do not know well

what he feels about me

his abuela

how can he know

that I love him so

when I barely see him.

I do know

my love grows

with every smile

he grants me,

and every time he pokes

at my arm

to ask for a cookie.

I do know

that no matter

how far

apart we may be

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In Remembrance of My Grandmother


Thinking about my grandmother today on Grandparents Day!
To those who are grandparents I wish you a perfect day with your grandchildren.

Melba Christie at Poemattic

She barely smiled

but when she did

it was like she smiled

for all of us, all at once

She sequestered herself

away from the world outside

her humble home

soon after my grandfather died

I never met him

but she made him come alive to me

with stories of his exquisite chivalry

His portrait sat on the table

beside where Grandma sat

to fold the laundry and fine linen

Each fold she made

was purposeful

and perfectly aligned

her wrinkled hands

caressed the fabric

with great tenderness

a pillow case could not

possibly appreciate

I felt her love

one day

when she gently brushed

my hair for the first time

(I could remember)

and wrapped it in a bun.

She told extraordinary stories

about her childhood, my grandfather

and the things that according to her

every girl should know

about life in general.

She smoked cigars

which I found unreal

View original post 185 more words

Nature’s Rebellion


landscape 4

                                           Painting by Melba Christie

 

As a grandmother I seem to be more in tune with the things that will affect the future of my grandchildren. I want them to inherit a clean and healthy environment. I want them to feel what it like to run freely on the leaves of grass and through fields of lilies. I recently saw footage of the enormous damage caused by wildfires in California, Washington and Oregon.

I wrote Nature’s Rebellion after watching video about the devastation caused to wildlife and homes in these areas.

 

 

Nature’s Rebellion

Grassy foothills

now an eerie white

my heart broke at the sight

 

Thick layers of smoke

block out the baby blue sky

a 3000 year old Sequoia

reaches out its towering limbs

as if to ask the heavens

to be saved from the smothering blaze nearby

 

Wildfires everywhere

totally out of control

wait for El Niño

to drench the earth’s soul

 

Some say fire

and some say ice

Nature’s Rebellion

Who knows what sacrifice

 

Whatever we do now

may not suffice

 

My canvas impatiently waits

for me to paint

the landscapes of my dreams

fields of full of lilies

lavender and sage

Daffodils dance their coming of age

We need to remember

our world is one stage

 

come one and come all

to witness our survival

before it’s too late

be thoughtful, less careless

Don’t let our planet’s death

Be our fate.

 

 

Numbers With Meaning


My tribute goes deep. One of my family members was first responder and we are grateful she is still in our lives. A couple of my former students at the time lost family members. A colleague lost his cousin. As everyone else, I remember vividly the events of the day. I can remember things I said, what I had for breakfast and the pounding of heart. It all started during the first period of the school day. I had to be strong for my students and the teachers under my supervision. I was not supposed to panic. I had to be strong for all of them. I remained as calm as I humanly could and tried to comfort the children who had been entrusted to me.

I did not breakdown until I returned home that evening and looked to the New York City skyline from my car to see the devastation. Although all I could see was smoke, I kept thinking of the people who lived in that area and all the lives lost. I thought about my old neighborhood and how terrified people must have been in those horrific moments. I thanked God that my family was safe. I recently visited the 9/11 memorial. It is amazing. It was very emotional and sad but at the same time I felt hopeful. I know we will never ever forget. I just pray that it gets better for all the family members who lost their loved ones. I did not realize or maybe I’d blocked out some of the facts of that day. Only six people survived. Most especially I was stunned to know that 11 unborn children had also perished. Now that I am a grandmother this fact is harder to accept. However, I believe with all my heart they are our angels of hope.

I did not write a poem this year but I focused on the numbers that appear in every newspaper, blog, flyer, book, and all accounts of that beautiful September day that became the most tragic day in the history of our country. May their souls rest in peace.

A candle in the wind God bless America.

Numbers with meaning

9/11

2001

8:45

1

767

11

20,000

80

110

18

9:04

2

767

175

60

9:45

5

757

77

125

64

15

200

10:30

93

40

500

5:20

7

4

1,800,000

2997

90

11

343

23

37

6

19

Freedom Tower

Water Falls

When Laughter is Heard


I laughed so much today that I thought I’d share this poem again. The reason for my joy and laughter today was a visit with my six month old granddaughter. Her smile, sweet giggles and hardy chuckles could make anyone feel happy.

Melba Christie at Poemattic

When laughter is heard,

hang on to its sound.

it resonates well-being.

Hearts heal with laughter.

The old feel young again;

burdens and worries disappear

and the mind is rid of thoughts

and free of dreaded fear.

Therefore, as breath is life

and we need to breathe every second of the day

make laughter just as indispensable

and find something nonsensical

to make you chuckle with a strong har-de-har

and when laughter is heard

you know it will take you far.

Below is my interpretation of laughter:

what laughter looks like to me                                                                 Drawing by Melba Christie (c) 2014

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September


Mandala 5

                                                            September Morn

                                                           leaves fall silently

                                                               a child runs

                                                              back to school