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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Poetry and Art

Recently I decided to link my poetry to my artwork via several venues. I published my coloring book in September of 2016, The Secret Life of Mandalas, which is available via Amazon.com.

I have always loved graphic design and making my own greeting cards and other products. Zazzle.com and Threadless.com gave me the opportunity to create my products and use my art and poetry.

I want to thank those of you who have been so supportive this past year. I truly appreciate your comments and feedback.

Occasionally, I will post some of my products as they become available. However, my main focus and labor of love will continue to be writing poetry.

handbag-1

 

 

When We Listen

When We listen

When we listen
we can hear the unspoken words
of the sages of the future

when we listen
the songs of the crickets
are meant to heal our souls

when we listen
we can decipher
the secret whispers
of the butterflies

DSC_1090

Photo by Melba Christie

When we listen
we can hear
the heart strings of a young lover
strumming like an acoustic guitar

when we listen
we can hear
the harp of our soul
playing an opus
to help us become
more aware of who we are

when we listen
there’s no telling
what sounds will resonate
to help us appreciate
the life we take for granted
all the more.

Do you believe in Santa, Grandma?

christmas

 

Yes, I believe in Santa.

Don’t ask me why?

I love his red cheeks,

his jolly and heartfelt chuckle,

and chubby belly held up by a great big buckle.

 

Although you may think

I am a little too old,

I still believe in Santa Claus

truth be told

when it is time for him to appear

with his beautiful sleigh and gracious reindeer

it is also the time

that people seem to smile a little bit more

and some folks are kinder than ever before

Everything seems to be so much brighter

and the hugs that I get are a little bit tighter.

 

It is a time for family to get together

It is a time when even the sick feel a bit better

Yes, my dear grandson, I still believe in Old St. NIck!

I believe I once saw him climb down a chimney made of red brick.

Someone tried to convince it was all just a trick

But the joy and the comfort that happens to be

during this time of year is the best; Don’t you agree?

 

So, I tell you believe me

for remember it happens to be

the celebration of the birth of Jesus

and other holidays as well

when people no matter where

they may be from

celebrate love, peace

and they all seem to know

that when you believe

Who knows what miracles, together we can achieve.

 

-Melba Christie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

Sunflowers

image   Painting by Melba Christie (c) 2015

Sunflowers

Sunflowers speak

A different language

That no other flower can

But when they speak to me

Somehow I understand

 

They stand tall in attention

listening very  carefully

To the songs of the angels

singing gleefully

their message is to spread your love

completely and openly

as often as you can.

This is why I try to paint

Sunflowers like Van Gogh

Although they may be a little rough

I know one thing is for sure.

I follow through with the message

Sunflowers were  created to make.

Love is the most important thing in life

Make no mistake.