I don’t write poetry like I used to, but yesterday morning, this poem came out of me quite unexpectedly.
WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF US
Why are there so many of us?
Those of us with dreams in our souls and whispers at our fingertips?
Those of us whose curiosity flows like a river after rain?
Those of us with mountains of information piled high on desks with expectations?
We collect stories–but not before we’ve swallowed them and they’ve become part of us.
Who we are.
Fragments and pieces stored up that we will let simmer, rearrange and nurture.
Why are there so many of us?
The wisdom seekers and the revelation enlighteners?
The crafty ones who don’t want others to feel alone?
We write the words others need to hear.
We tell the tales long stored in boxes and photographs; in etchings and journals; between the walls of homes and in the silent prayers of places of worship.
Why are we the ones to be fearless?
To give it all we’ve got?
To imagine the pain and horror and sadness?
The euphoria, the bliss, and the passion?
There is no other way, you see.
We are the ones.
***
copyright Stephanie Verni 2018
Filed under: On Life
