Wednesday, June 20, 2012


Gwendolyn Brooks,

And if sun comes

How shall we greet him?
Shall we not dread him,
Shall we not fear him
After so lengthy a
Session with shade?
Though we have wept for him,
Though we have prayed
All through the night-years—
What if we wake one shimmering morning to
Hear the fierce hammering
Of his firm knuckles
Hard on the door?
Shall we not shudder?—
Shall we not flee
Into the shelter, the dear thick shelter
Of the familiar
Propitious haze?
Sweet is it, sweet is it
To sleep in the coolness
Of snug unawareness.
The dark hangs heavily
Over the eyes.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012


When the pain ended and the last tears fell, 
And I got out of my living and bitter hell, 
I found a strength as strong as steel, 
This strength I found is surely real.

I found a strength to hold onto, 
To help me out, 
To make it through, 
This strength I found deep inside, 
From this strength I will not hide.

Friday, June 01, 2012


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