A child stares out of an open window. Tears stream down his face. Pictures of his mother lay on the floor. He has lost her. She has passed away. The boy was told of his mother’s joyous spirit, her personality and the way she was. He was told by her friends and family how happy she was to have given birth to her one and only son. Yet, he can’t remember her face and her warmth; he can’t remember her touch and the love only a mother could give. He clutches a picture of her and holds it to his chest; he kisses her. He scours his mind for the memory of her, at least one precious moment. He finds none. If only he could remember the sound of her voice and her laughter. If only he could remember her bright smile. He closes his teary eyes tightly, and tries even harder to remember her, but there is no memory of their time together. With his eyes closed, the remnant of his tears fall onto the photos of his mother. He opens his eyes and looks at her pictures intently. Mommy I love you, he says. He will carry her in his heart forever. A heartbroken child stares out of an open window. The cold winter wind touches his face. He hopes his mother can see him; he hopes his mother can hear him.
Tag: Love
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I see your affliction. I see your pain. You are not unnoticed. I see your misery, and your many sorrows. I see your heaviness of heart; I see the toll the hard years have taken on you. People pass by and stare. You are looked down upon, sidelined, and ostracized. You have lost hope and have given up. You have nothing left to give. You are misunderstood. You have suffered in silence for many years. I see your suffering. I understand the depths of your pain.
Family have turned their backs on you. Spouses have left when you needed them most. You have lost your means of income and have no one to turn to for help. You sacrifice everything for your children, but it’s still not enough. Friends have abandoned you in your time of need, and former colleagues talk about you behind your back. I understand your plight, and I see your pain.
Physical illness has caused you immense pain and suffering. Mental illness has caused agony, and great sorrow. You are in constant distress. You try to hide your affliction from the world for fear of being outcast. For fear of being laughed at and persecuted. I see your pain.
You have lost your home and are now homeless. You never thought it would happen to you; you cry every day and night. You were disavowed by everyone you know, even those you held close. I see your pain; I see your tears.
You suffered abuse as a child. You were failed by those who were supposed to protect you. You have carried this secret with you into adulthood. It is a heavy burden that has weighed you down. You have shed tears in the dark. You have suffered in silence. I see your pain and your tears. I see your anger and your sorrow.
You used to be vibrant, happy and full of life, but depression has taken away your joy and your happiness. You are in pain. You try to be strong for your children and smile, but they see your tears. You have contemplated ending it all; closing your eyes forever. I see your intense pain. I see your weeping and sorrow.
Addiction has ruined your life. You are a shell of who you once were. You have hurt the people that love you; you are held captive by your addiction. You want to stop and you have tried many times, but now you feel that you are at the point of no return. I see your pain.
You have been tossed around from home to home, and you feel like nobody wants you. The foster parents who said they would always love you, have thrown you away like trash. You are tired of the broken promises and disappointments. You want to be genuinely loved. I see your pain and your hurt. I love you.
You have suffered abuse for many years. It has broken your spirit; it has dimmed the light inside of you. You want to leave but you are afraid; you don’t know what to do. I see your torment. I see your suffering and your many tears.
You have carried heavy burdens all of your life. They have worn on you along the way. You want to be free. You want peace. I understand your plight; I see your suffering. Tears fall as emotions encompass me. You are not unnoticed. I see your affliction. I see your pain. I love you.
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The sight of her pain wounded my spirit. Her smile and the light in her eyes hid her suffering and darkness. A deep darkness and pain that wore on her. Her plight was one of survival. A once bright light inside her became dim. A piece of her soul torn away, every time she earned her living. She lie there, wilted and despondent, eyes wide as if in a trance; her cries and sorrow internal and not heard. She is numb; the act is done. The familiar scent of dirty and worn bills fill her nostrils, as they are left on an old broken down table that has seen better days. She lies there, still and quiet. Her eyes remain wide and trancelike, as she stares up at the ceiling. She is not sure how long she can carry on. Her spirit is broken and her life energy is low, but she knows no other way. She wants to be noticed; she does not want to be judged. In a small corner she stoops, and lets out tears in quiet solitude. She desires love; she desires warmth. Her soul is weary. So many long days. So many perilous nights. A heavy burden rests on her. She will carry it as long as she can. The pain is unrelenting and unforgiving. She seeks rest. A long comfort; a deep sleep.
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A song for the oppressed. Rise my people, rise up and dance! Lift your voices and sing! Sing the songs of your fathers and remember the smile and beauty of your mothers. Let the sun reflect on your brown skin and energize your melanin; let the sun’s rays kiss and bless your lovely hue! Sing my people, sing! Let your voices rise to the heavens and shake the earth! Sing my people, sing! Sing because we are sanguine, and because our people are of a beautiful brown hue. The melanin within us reverberate and jump to the rhythm of our ancient songs and cadences. Women, let your octaves drift through the generations, and men let your baritones vibrate through the bones of the dead! Sing children, sing! Let your voices ripple through the universe and the vast galaxies! Sing the songs of freedom, and hum the hymns of rebellion! We are not a defeated people; we have life in us yet! Sing you generations of the oppressed, sing a new song of hope and triumph! Let the ancestors in the spirit world hear it, and dance again! Let them move with vigor and rhythm. Dance, my ancestors, dance! Pound the drums and move your feet! Oh, those old songs of rebellion, and those beautiful songs of uprising! Let loose of your shackles, overtake your oppressors, and let us live, but if we must die, we die in insurrection, and we die side by side. Our eternal souls shall still sing! We shall be remembered.
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Dear Lord, invigorate me, redeem me, quicken my spirit and soul. Set me on a higher plane, bless me, cause your face to shine on me, forgive me, love me, guide me, be with me, dwell in me, help me; illuminate me, grace me with your presence, increase my knowledge, search my heart, protect me, give me the strength to carry on, pardon my transgressions, overlook my shortcomings, do not forsake me in my hour of despair. In the dark and lonely hours send your Angels to watch over me; I am not deserving of your love, I am not worthy of your sacrifice. Be merciful unto me and sustain me. Do not let me drown in my many sorrows; cast aside my woes and quell my fears. Father, I am nothing without you. In my fleshly body I am weak, you are light, you are life, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the Lord of our fathers. You have given me victory over my enemies; you have destroyed those who have plotted against me. I praise you, I honor you. Lord, continue to guide me, and catch me when I stumble and fall, lighten my burdens and increase my joy. Let me not be afraid, embolden me, give me the heart of David and the strength of Samson, the wisdom of Solomon, and the spirit of Joshua, the patience of Moses and the love of Joseph. I adore you, I love you, and I thank you. Amen.
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She cries for him. The deep lacerations on his back make it hard for him to work, and he is in severe pain. He must carry on or risk even more torture and suffering. He dreams of the day that he can be free, a day when all suffering and pain will cease and his people will no longer be under the hand of the oppressor. He looks over to her and the pain in their eyes communicate their thoughts. He loves her and she loves him, even though they are in bondage, somehow the beauty in their hearts persevere. The love between them is made even stronger with every crack of the whip, with every atrocity, with every abuse, with every unspeakable act, their love, their bond, is made stronger. They find comfort and love in each other. They find hope and resolve in each others dreams. Tattered clothes, scraps of food, not enough to eat, they sit by a warm fire and embrace each other. She holds on to him tight, with somber eyes that carry a deep pain and tell the story of what once was, and what is. Eyes that can only be read by her people; a people who’s story is the same and who’s hopes and dreams are the same. He kisses her and begins to sing the songs of his fathers. She joins in and they sing in harmony together, they remember their homeland, their royalty and their tradition, and they hold on to it, and it is carried in their hearts. He is a strong man, big in stature, with the heart of a lion.
She is a strong woman, a nurse to her man and many more. A comforter, a soft touch, a beautiful rose in the wilderness, an oasis in the desert. In their worst suffering they vow to die together and to be eternally inseparable. Even when she is raped by the oppressor, she may let out tears, but her resolve is not shaken. Her heart and mind belong to her one true love. She will not be moved and she will not be broken. Her mind drifts to a place of peace, the land of her ancestors, and once again she is able to bear it. Once again she joins her true love in their small structure and they are quiet, for he knows her pain and the ordeals of the day and silence is all he can give. She sees his pain and anger, his eyes red with both fury and hurt, and she is strong enough to carry it. She places her arms around his shoulders and comforts him; he slowly places his strong arm, around her waist and brings her in closer to him. They both stare out of their small window and into the dark night; the moon and the stars brightly lit, she looks into his eyes and all emotion is communicated. He holds her even more tightly and says a silent prayer from the depths of his soul. He kisses her on the crown of her head and the love he has for her is immeasurable. They refuse to give up, they refuse to be broken. One day freedom will come, either in this life or the next.
Intimate Compositions 