Though she be but little, she is fierce – William Shakespeare
I feel like a mother
Watching these children grow
Nurturing them, kissing their brows
And laying them down to sleep each night
I feel like a father
Directing the children in their way
Watching them learn and grow day by day
And teaching them how to respect their mother
This chest is too small
And my heart is too big
For it to hold correctly
And it strains my muscles
And bends my ribs ajar
With its constant beating
Like a hummingbird in wing
Midsummer is coming again
Yet here I am still
Sitting in her chair
At the top of Summer’s hill
Flowers budding in the yard
A sky so blue it breaks my heart
The hot sunshine raining down
Its light reflecting off Mary’s crown
Dawn is coming,
Hail her with bows
Dawn is running
Through the fields of cows
Here comes Dawn
With pink tresses glowing
Here comes Dawn
Like fire every growing
Sleeping here, on my mat
The sun streaming into my flat
It is hardly four yet already she works
Our never tiring mother, the sun
Look at that little tree
All withered and sad
Framed against the sea
Doesn’t it make you glad
That you are not a sea tree?
Wind instead of rain
Tears and yet no pain
Dirt tossed upon a coffin
Where in lies a body
Of a boy, and where in
Lies the pieces of my heart
And the pain that nobody
No child, should ever be a part
And yet here we stand,
Children, mother, and father
Beside this sacred land
Where in your body shall rest
Yes, here we stand,
Beating on our breasts.
Welcome to the show,
Come on stage, little star!
(Welcome to the show)
Dance to our guitar
(Kilada’s Lament) A poem written by Isaiah, may his soul rest in peace
Continue reading “Evitak Ulkiladaaler Antrindemer”