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.

Tragedy Strikes Again


I would be remiss if I did not offer my condolences to the families of the victims gunned down Wednesday while at a bible study meeting at their church in Charleston, South Carolina. It saddens me deeply that violence strikes again. I dread the questions my oldest grandson will have about this. What do you say to an eight year old who believes that church is a safe haven. For that matter that school is a safe place to be as well.

There are many issues at play with this particular incident. Or are they the same issues that come back to haunt us again and again. When will it stop? I believe that love will prevail. I believe that goodness strikes out evil. We need to take whatever time is necessary and talk to our children about what it is that makes us human. We must help them understand our biology. We all bleed the same. Our hearts (even when not very healthy) will beat to keep us alive. We all need to breathe, eat and sleep. We all want to be loved. We all need to love somebody. And when someone dies, it does not matter what language we speak; or what color our skin is, or what religion or faith we observe, we grieve with a hole left in our hearts and tears filling up our eyes. The love we feel is immense and never leaves us.

It is very simple actually this humanity of ours. We are built in a way that is so complex, interrelated, and interdependent that no one has been able to replicate what we know to be a human being.

The great phenomena is that it is indeed a very simple construct. We all need each other. Our diversity and our sameness is equally phenomenal. Senseless murder and violence hurts us all. One family member said, “Every fiber of my body hurts.” She lost a son who was her hero. Children are not suppose to die before their parents. It is not suppose to be the rule.

Our humanity must take charge and stand up tall and spread the word. We are one. A part of a whole. I am a part of you, of this planet, and you are a part of me. It is as simple as that. Call me a dreamer (I think someone said this once before.) but it is time that we take action. I know that I am not the only one. Love must win! Our humanity must be victorious.

 

“Peace is not a season; it must be a way of life.”

Survival

Look Inside Their Hearts


I watched in awe

sitting in the first row

of a small cafetorium

as forty children performed

their very much rehearsed musical show.

Each child so unique and special

watched in anticipation for the signals

of their beloved music teacher.

The tamborine players started the jamboree

The maraca players joined in at the count of three

Then the drummers followed faithfully.

The teacher’s face glowed with pride

and we all learned for just an instant

to look inside their hearts as she does everyday.

One can see the unconditional devotion

the audience filled with emotion

clapped and cheered as each child was introduced

I heard someone say:

“I will never underestimate

the power of a teacher.”

It is all about one’s expectation

and the magic music can bring.

When all was said and done

my heart was so happy and

wanted to sing.

* This poem is dedicated to good teachers and most of all to those who devote their career to children with special needs. Most of the children in the show were autistic. It was amazing.

DSC_0254

The Sum of Some Things in My Life


The Sum of Some Things in My Life

If I were to sum up my life
The percentages would not add up
I mean the ultimate percentage
Is supposed to be 100%
But nothing is one hundred percent
Except paying up your taxes.

For sure, twenty percent has been
Physical and emotional pain
Back pain mostly
Giving birth – twice
The pain of loss
So many left me too soon,
Prejudice, hate, war all around
They get to us all some way or another.

Ten percent has been laughter
Life played many jokes on me (sometimes I did not laugh)
Mostly my children made me laugh the most
Quiet smiles,
Soft chuckles,
Quick giggles full of dimples

Another ten percent I allot to passion
Moments of utter ecstasy
My passion for teaching,
Poetry, Art, and social justice.
How passionately I hate hatred
And how I hate to say hate
Or that I hate anything

Twenty percent has been worry
I am the quintessential worry wart
Fear of losing my mind to Alzheimer’s
Always worried about my children, their children
And in today’s crazy world
I worry about all children

Fifty percent has been love
Love dominates my life,
To make the right choices most of the time
Love is never forgotten
Whether it’s …
The love of God (Eternal)
A lost love,
A life-long love,
A child’s love,
A parent’s love,
Or simply self-love
Love is essential, like nature
You can find it anywhere
If you look hard
It is in the stillness
It is in the soul
It is what makes
everything else worthwhile.

Love birds

The Flower Against the Wall


Against the Wall

                                    Melba Christie (c) 2014

I once saw this flower

resting and growing

on a wall

I could not believe

it would grow to be so tall

but its singular beauty

gave it strength

As everyone who

saw it

only has something

gracious to say.

 

Children grow strong

and confident

in the very same way.

Give them encouragement

and make them feel special

and they will thrive

and surprise you

when they realize their potential.

 

 

 

 

My Empty Nest is Emptier Today


My empty nest is emptier today

after all of my children and grandchildren

all came home for a very brief stay

They spoiled me like a little kid

with gorgeous smiles,

spontaneous hugs

and kisses,

and comments

prefaced with

remember mom when this and that or this other

referencing the good times she had with her only brother

 

sometimes I wonder if their memories

are fiction or actually fact

They will never know how much

they are missed by their father and mother

 

I tour the house after they all leave

for fainted hints of their perfumes and colognes

and objects they have left behind

that constantly remind

me of the things they did and said

like: my son’s hearty chuckle

my daughter’s pumpkin bread

my grandson Nicholas and his

little dance to Elmo’s Alphabet Song,

and Isaiah’s curious questions about

nature and dinosaurs.

It soothes me to look at

all the pictures I have of them

all around the house.

 

All is so very quiet;

Not a single rouse,

My empty house is emptier

than it ever was before

But it is what it is

Can anyone ever blame me

for wanting to see them more.

 

I scan the empty spaces

as tears run down my face

my eyes are a little blurry

yet focus on something small

sitting on Grandma’s favorite chair

just one lonely small sock abandoned

my dear Nicholas is there.

I gently place it

by his perfect picture

hugging his favorite teddy bear

I pray the next time I see them

will be just a little quicker.

 

In the meantime my empty nest

is emptier than it ever was before

All I know is

as days go by

my love

for all my children grows

more and more and more.

 

Melba Christie (C) 2014