Tag: Poetry

Waiting for the Light by Christina Knowles

I’m still on my villanelle obsession. Here’s the third one this week:

Snagged from 1CarGames
Snagged from 1CarGames

“Waiting for the Light”

They say weeping is only for the night

But joy comes in the morning

We’re still waiting for the light

History is hope’s blight

Recorded as a warning

Yet weeping is only for the night

Wiping out evil, He will smite

Rid the world of its scorning

But we’re still waiting for the light

Will we be next on this holy height,

Self-righteousness adorning?

Will our weeping be only for the night?

As dark clouds swarm and reunite

We brace against His storming

Pointlessly waiting for the light

With words we find so trite

But will never end our mourning,

Yet weeping is only for the night

So we go on waiting for the light—Christina Knowles

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Questions by Christina Knowles

imageThe soul clings to its impressions
A deeper seed it plants
There are no answers to my questions

Searching for release of its expressions
In adoration the soul will dance
As it clings to its impressions

Powerless and prone to take suggestions
Promised such beauty, it’s entranced
Yet, there are no answers to my questions

Lost in amazement, the processions
Gather at the feet of Romance
The soul clings to its impressions

Diminishing material possessions
Quenching spring, the soul’s desire it grants
Still, there are no answers to my questions

No remedy for our transgressions
No vague emptiness it supplants,
But the soul clings to its impressions,
And there are no answers to my questions.–Christina Knowles

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The Sun Still Rises by Christina Knowles

Pichost
Pichost

The sun still rises in the morning; the moon still shines at night.

Somehow we see a future, and imagine it will stay,

But the wind still blows in Eden, despite the wrong and right.

Trying to determine when to run and when to fight,

We muster up the courage, but will the cost outweigh?

The sun still rises in the morning; the moon still shines at night.

Change is in the atmosphere, whether or not it’s right.

The forecast calls for stillness, yet we know they

Believe the wind still blows in Eden, despite the wrong and right.

We gather up our forces; we fight with all our might

Just to see our soldiers crumble, lost to another fray,

       But the sun still rises in the morning; the moon still shines at night.

Rising up once more, we stumble, grasping at the light.

Squinting through the brightness, we take a breath and pray

That the wind still blows in Eden, despite the wrong and right.

Someday we’ll see a future: oh, it’s a perfect sight,

And we will hold it in our hearts and imagine it can stay,

For the sun still rises in the morning; the moon still shines at night.

And the wind still blows in Eden, despite the wrong and right.

–Christina Knowles (9/11/14)

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