Breathing Decay

The hole is not deep. At the bottom, it houses one person. I call out, and yet my voice does not reach. I reach out, but no one reaches back. Distant church bells; not for a funeral. I will not mourn you. Eyes closed, I hear you breathe. A tomb of your making. Hiding from the world, so far from the caress of morning sun. Won’t you emerge? Stop being stubborn.

I will not let you decay. Let me lift you up into my arms; it is safer up here. I won’t let you be cold. Take my hand. Please. I want to feel your warmth once more.

A Garden of Many Flowers

Many people come through the garden to reach the old doors of the church. All walks of life, treading the path in and out of mass. 

The acolyte rushes by. During one of our chats, he told me he has trouble sleeping, and wakes up late to early mass. He is one of the few people who shares my passion for the garden. 

The scholar walks by. I recognize him by the same green tie he brings to every mass. We spoke once; he has a degree in criminology. This garden, I suppose, is my own “field of study.” 

The athlete stumbles by. His ball landed in my garden, and he offered a sheepish apology. He has grand aspirations, but all I need are my flowers.

A child approached me. Nervously, he asked to help me with the garden, and I was happy to give him my watering can. I wanted to be a firefighter when I was his age. 

I don’t think anyone dreams of becoming a gardener, but when people stop to admire my work, I am reminded why I love this garden of mine.

5/14

Today was my birthday and all my friends came over. They got me the BEST gifts ever, a new sketchbook and some markers. We went to church in the morning and got to see the flowers blooming next to the angel statues. God says to take care of the Earth, so I helped water the plants with the gardener. 

Today was my birthday, but I feel kinda sad. Everyone went home and the house is quiet again. Mom cleaned up the mess all by herself. The guy I sat next to at church looked sad. Is it okay for me to have this much happiness if I can’t share it?

Also I think I ate too much cake.

Challenger

Challenging the odds is what I do best

Having no fear of the spectators

At the plate, not gonna strike out

Memories of a lost game in the back of my mind

Pitcher makes his throw

Instant THWACK of the bat 

Overwhelming applause from friends and family

Never will I give up on chasing this dream

Another Verse

Broken vase, flowers about

Red hands small

Concern reaching down

Footsteps in hall

Crying flesh upon cold blade

Whisper while you weep

Creeping fear of judgment

Secrets that you keep

Silent for the song

In hand, violin and bow

Heavenly melody reaching above

Up from hell below

Etch into skin a holy word

Word upon word

Next sentence and verse

Silent and unheard

Fingers pressing down, he pushes back up

That monster lives just beneath skin

Salvation reaching down

Wounded hands afraid to reach out

This series of poems is intended to be read in a different form factor with visuals on this post here! I am uploading the poems here in blog format just in case it needs to be here! Total word count:566