If These Walls...--A New Poem

I am standing in history,

where mere mortals

dared to dream;

stood their ground,

when that actually meant something

worth dying for;

images are all around me,

voices speaking their truths to me--

daring me,

pleading me,

not to forget,

not to ignore;

I can’t help

but acknowledge

that I am

because

they were,

they did,

they bled,

they died.

And I can’t help,

as I leave this room,

to promise them,

in my mind

and

in my heart,

to the best

of all that is within me,

that I will remember

this time,

their time

is now

my time

to be,

to do,

to live,

and,

if need be,

die

for something

worth dying for.

© 2014 Joseph Powell

In A Place, Once Unfamiliar--A New Poem

I have recently placed my stakes

in a place to me,unfamiliar;

underneath cloud formations

so unreal,

yet more real

than anything imaginable;

sharing space

with fireflies

on summer nights

and storms gone

as quickly

as they’ve come;

there’s a past here,

both terrible and awesome,

equalled only by

the feeling of being home,

of being present,

that I now have

in this place,

once unfamiliar.

I hope to be able to

add to the tapestry

already woven

long ago;

add the first

of many new chapters,

of many new verses

in this place of music

and storytelling;

not so much

to find fame and fortune,

but to find purpose

and kinship

with those whose dreams

have led them here as well;

I hope to see love,

kindled before arrival here

from distant shores

where I once set root

and still have ties,

blossom into

a magnificent landscape,

matched only

by the artistry

of God’s making,

I see all around me

in this place, once

unfamiliar;

I hope that

what the future,

(which is now to me,

also unfamiliar)

holds,

is more real

than I could ever imagine;

more awesome

than I know how to handle;

more beautiful

than anything I’ve yet seen

in my dreams;

I hope.

© 2014 Joseph Powell

Room 306--A New Poem

I am listening to Mahalia
singing your favorite song 
as I stare into 
the last room
you would ever inhabit;
tears streaming down
cheeks,
that were too young
that day
the earth seemed
to stand still
and time
seemed to freeze--
seemed,
probably to those who were there,
to bear witness
as yet another native son
was taken before his time;
someone who,
in the words that would be spoken
soon thereafter,
of yet another,
"who saw wrong and tried to right it,
saw suffering and tried to heal it,
saw war and tried to stop it".

Were it not for hope,
which often wavers
in these still difficult days,
I would despair
that it does no good
to try to do good,
to try to be good
in this world
that would deem you
not fit to live
any longer--
history has shown
and
continues to show
that this is true;
but I take some comfort,
some solace,
as I stand 
outside a memorial
dedicated
to your memory,
as one beneficiary
of the good
that you tried to do,
that it was worth it
and your death,
like so many before you,
and so many hence,
was not in vain.
Thank God Almighty.

© 2014 Joseph Powell