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Visit From An Ancestor

 

Grandmother was a young girl

when an ancestor visited her.

A gentle man from her third heritage

with a wooden flute in hand

played a pleasing tune

a soothing sound

to which she gently swayed.

She asked him where he’d come from,

and how he found his way,

He said a butterfly mapped the route

and he followed the nightingale’s song

but most of all it was the love

that still lived in our home.

 

His voice faded slowly away

and he suddenly disappeared

as mysteriously as he came.

 

The sun shone through

and she awoke

and nothing was ever the same.

Grandmother always said she’d hear

the flute in the distance every now and then.

Some days she’d secretly hoped he visit her again.

 

The day she passed I heard the flute

and a songbird sing softly in my ear.

I knew then everything would be fine.

Because love is what it is

and it lives right here with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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.

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Existence

Blue Ecstacy

Existence

Where we are

by far

defines our existence.

But where are we really?

Are we here, in the now, in the present?

Or are we not in existence?

Are we in our own imagination?

A figment?

I like to think I am

inside this painting;

going around in circles

without a worry,

the universe embracing me

until I become a wave.

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Crazy Dream

I read somewhere that in order to diversify your themes and topics for writing poetry or stories,you should write down the things you dream about as soon as you awake. Last night was full of  pleasant dreams for the most part. I have mentioned before my dreams are usually colorful and many times surreal. My dream last night was about my mother who passed away about twenty-two years ago. In this dream she was very chatty. We sat alongside sipping from our favorite mugs. I still have hers.

The second part of my dream took place in this beautiful but surreal garden. I could actually smell the essential fragrances of the flowers and herbs. I felt like I was at a spa. The colors blended and kind of melted into each other. Some of the plants and flowers actually spoke to me but I cannot remember any of It.

I started painting what I remembered right away. Please send me your opinion and comments; I just love when I get comments.

 

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My Dream and His: My Favorite Quotes

My Favorite Dr. Martin L. King Jr. Quotes

 

Every year for as long as I was a teacher, quotes would be posted all over my classroom during this time of year especially but all year as well. I would ask students to think about the quote and to talk about what Dr. King was saying within the given context or circumstances. I think many of my students were inspired and it was amazing to me what they said sometimes.

Every time one or two students would challenge me and ask me tough questions as well. Many times students would express disappointment and despair because they felt that nothing had really changed as a result of the Civil Rights Movement and Dr. King’s dream. Many were pessimistic and I could not blame them. I tried very hard to convince them that they were the change.

I hope that some of them remember how much I believed in the dream. I like to think that I planted a seed in their hearts and brains. As I thought about my former students today, I found myself writing a poem for them. The celebration would not be complete if I would not post some of my favorite quotes.

 

Here is the poem:

 

The Dream

I woke up from a real deep sleep

the warmth of the sun on my face

a promise for a better human race

was a part of my dream

I fell asleep again

to witness history

a token for our collective memory

We walked together side by side

Hand in hand with so much pride

The whole world knew Dr. King had died

His widow and small children

Lead the way

They still stand tall today

King eulogized himself that day

His last sermon at Ebenezer Baptist Church

was played

the famous ‘Drum Major’ sermon,

he’d given on February 4, 1968.

I will never forget the date.

Sadness spread throughout the land

for the Peace Prize Winner and Holy man

we could not help but to remember

the dream he had for us all.

John Lewis, Jesse Jackson and

Andrew Young would remain

To follow in his footsteps

To ensure his dream comes true

His distinct voice stronger than ever

grew in their heads.

His last speech echoed

And repeated like a refrain

“I don’t know what will happen now;

we’ve got some difficult days ahead.

But it really doesn’t matter to with me now,

because I’ve been to the mountaintop…

I’ve seen the Promised Land.

I may not get there with you.

I’m not worried about anything;

I’m not fearing any man.

Mine eyes have seen the glory

of the coming of the Lord.”

In the dream I saw your faces

(My students of yesteryear)

Pop up before me from different spaces

and as your teacher, I tell you now

Do not let the dream fall down

Keep it alive!

Keep it alive with your actions and deeds.

To my students: I wish you all God’s speed.

 

 

 

 

My Favorite Dr. Martin L. King Jr. Quotes

“I’ve seen too much hate to want to hate, myself, and every time I see it, I say to myself, hate is too great a burden to bear. Somehow we must be able to stand up against our most bitter opponents and say: We shall match your capacity to inflict suffering by our capacity to endure suffering. We will meet your physical force with soul force. Do to us what you will and we will still love you…. But be assured that we’ll wear you down by our capacity to suffer, and one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves; we will appeal to your heart and conscience that we will win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.”

“Violence never really deals with the basic evil of the situation. Violence may murder the murderer, but it doesn’t murder murder. Violence may murder the liar, but it doesn’t murder lie; it doesn’t establish truth. Violence may even murder the dishonest man, but it doesn’t murder dishonesty. Violence may go to the point of murdering the hater, but it doesn’t murder hate. It may increase hate. It is always a descending spiral leading nowhere. This is the ultimate weakness of violence: It multiplies evil and violence in the universe. It doesn’t solve any problems.”

“We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.”

”I am convinced that love is the most durable power in the world. It is not an expression of impractical idealism, but of practical realism. Far from being the pious injunction of a Utopian dreamer, love is an absolute necessity for the survival of our civilization. To return hate for hate does nothing but intensify the existence of evil in the universe. Someone must have sense enough and religion enough to cut off the chain of hate and evil, and this can only be done through love.”

“If you want to be important—wonderful. If you want to be recognized—wonderful. If you want to be great—wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. That’s a new definition of greatness.”
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The Christmas Eve Flower

I suppose I should have posted this piece a few days ago. But Christmas day is as a good a day as any really. But it is so appropriate because I had this great dream just last night, Christmas Eve.

I use the Poinsettia plant to decorate the house at Christmas. I love the traditional red hue poinsettia but of course they are all beautiful. “Indigenous to Mexico and South America the flower traveled to Egypt and is even cultivated there since 1860.”

I am always intrigued by how flowers grow in certain regions. I know the climate and landscape has a lot to do with it of course but I think there is more to it. The story behind the traditional Poinsettia stems from the wish of a little girl to be able to give gifts on the day we celebrate the birth of Christ. The story says that a girl named Pepita, inspired by the visit of an angel, gathered weeds and placed on a church altar. Miraculously the Poinsettia blossomed. “The flower, shaped like a star became to symbolize the Star of Bethlehem.”

poinsettia

So back to my dream last night; I always dream in Technicolor. I tell everyone this. In my dream, I found myself in a field surrounded by the little red stars we call Poinsettia. My mother would say that if you want a plant to grow well and have a long life you should talk to it. In my dream I spoke to them and one asked me to make my Christmas wishes. I asked for (yes, this might sound corny) Peace. I asked for a cure for Cancer especially but also for a few other diseases like Diabetes. These ills run rampant in my family. Then, I saw Poinsettias shine brighter and I felt hopeful.

DSC_0059

Poinsettia can last a long time if cared for appropriately. My friend Rafaela cared for her Poinsettia and she had them all year round. She was a miracle worker anyway. She always found time to make people feel happy.  I have not heard from her in a long time. We lost touch many years ago after she suffered a family tragedy and moved away without leaving any address or phone number. I hope she is well. She inspired my post today. She too loved Poinsettia and would fill the office with them. It changed the ambiance for sure.

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So the next time you see or purchase a Poinsettia plant think about the possibilities. Merry Christmas!!!

 

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I had a dream that I had been a guest at 27 rue de Fleurus

I had a dream that I had been a guest at
27 rue de Fleurus

I had a dream
That I had been a guest at
27 rue de Fleurus

Picasso, William Carlos Williams,
Matisse and a few others happened
To drop by.

Oh my!
I felt like I was in heaven.
I asked Matisse to look at one of my portraiture paintings
The one I called exotic lady.
Not a resemblance of me. I think.
He stared at it and did not say a word.

But Picasso approached with caution
and I stepped back to let him
get a good view
and he smiled.

Oh wow!
I did not want to awake.
I wanted the dream to last
So I could speak to Carlos
And ask him about his epic Poem Paterson
This is the town where I taught for many years
I told him.

The place where “everyone has roots”
I believed that “every child is an artist”

I asked him what he thought about his Paterson today
He did not respond but my heart
knew the answer.

27 rue de Fleurus
was a beautiful place
I was in awe of the art
Overwhelmed with the culture
And the echoes of great thoughts

Oh my!
It’s time to get up
Or I’ll be late to work.

Melba Christie 2014

27 Rue de Fleurus

DSC_0592

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Day 2

 

 

You are still too young

to know the dreams

I store in my heart

 

Your predecessor may have told you about me

I am a dreamer; an unconditional believer

a non-conformist when injustice exists

a lover of nature and knowing

 

But I want you

to listen closely

to me please

I need you to be a true north

a lucky seven

helping time to pass quickly 

for those who suffer

and slowly for those who

need the extra time to resolve

 

I feel that you will be better

that you will go down

in history as a bountiful year

a year where we begin to

understand each other more

 

I look forward to every day

one day at a time

making every minute count

for me and those I love.

 

 

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I witnessed a miracle tonight

Image

 

In a crystal house
two old souls collide
no longer having to hide
their love once forbidden
 
a dream finally fulfilled
transforms shattered glass
into glimmering starlight
allowing the sky
not to be shy at night
any longer
 
those of us
who witnessed this miracle tonight
 
have hope
that we too can
find a love
that transcends time
and can only become stronger.
 
Melba Christie (c) 2013
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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A Visit to the Hospital

 

I had a very emotional dream last night. I was back in the hospital with my oldest sister. She was in the intensive care unit under an induced coma.  So the visit was limited to just a few minutes. There were a few patients in that section with very serious conditions of course. I remember one woman specifically. She survived that episode and died several years later. I do not know the destiny of the other woman.  In the dream I am writing about the experience in a poem. I actually had written a poem and had put it away. when I woke up this morning, I looked for the poem in one of my old journals and there was the poem. It was déjà vu all over again as they say. I felt I had to include it in my post today. If you have ever lost a sibling, especially a sister, it is a very difficult thing. I was the baby. She was my confidant. It’s gotten easier through the years. Here it is.

As I await

what the doctors have declared

“the inevitable”

a long trying wait

hope escapes the room

and when I least expect it

it tiptoes back into the room

to visit her dreams.

Reality beeps desperately

every second

mimicking

two anxious hearts

and mine terrified.

The protocol monitor

gauges everything but

their deep thoughts,

and their questions beginning with

what if …?

Destiny has arranged

for these two strangers

one in Bed A

and the other  in Bed B

to share the power of hope.

 

 

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A Find in the Attic

Letter Box

A FIND IN THE ATTIC

As I rummaged through boxes in my attic, as I do every spring, my goal each year is to clear out as much as possible. But somehow I end up keeping most of the things. It is always like a journey into my past and many of the things I keep there have sentimental value.

I came across a small cushioned wooden box. I was intrigued because I had forgotten what I had put inside the box. When I opened it I found my late nephew’s letters written to me so many years ago. I cried. I unfolded the first piece which did not have a date on it. I read; I cried and later on, I found the envelope folded away at the bottom of the box. The date stamped on it was March 19, 1974. I cried again. The letter was prophetic. As they say hind sight is always 20/20. I was pregnant with my first child at the time. So I must have been just as emotional when I read it the first time. I never would have imagined that the letters would be the last conversations we had with each other. Our letters were long conversations. It was too expensive to communicate by telephone and so we wrote to each other quite often. I miss letter writing. We talked about nature, music, politics, human suffering and the future. He was sensitive to what was happening around him as he was stationed in the army as a paramedic. He hated injustice and violence. He often wrote songs about it. He played the guitar without ever having taken a class in his life. He had a beautiful soul.

Although he was my nephew and logic dictates that I as his aunt would have been a lot older than he, I was just two years older. We were more like siblings. So, we shared many things and our favorite topic was poetry. He was very creative and loved to write poems too. In his letters he always included a short poem and in the closing of the letter he would write, ” I will keep writing them as long as you keep reading them.”  I hope he knows that I have never forgotten his poems.

I want to share a small snippet of what he wrote in this particular letter. Here it is:

“Your dreams are yours alone

and creative thoughts become

your energy and life are prolonged

through words spoken and unspoken

so dream on

and you will be eternal

in someone’s life.”

I will end this post with a Forrest Gumpism: “And that’s all I have to say about that.”

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