The Monochrome View
Tell him it’s a lie.
The ashen hue for sun,
the gunmetal ground for soil,
the pewter pole for fruit-bearing tree,
the cinereous mural wall for fresh field
with its marbleized animalia—
Show him how to see.
into azura days of clarity,
Kelly green gardens of hope,
vermillion walls of a happy home,
kaleidoscope ways of being impervious to
circumstances and unnatural playgrounds—
Tell him and tell him again and again,
the truth about little black boys and Monarchs,
then pray he flies.
*From “Black Butterfly” by Barry Mann & Cynthia Weil
Following are a couple of links to the online exhibit. Looking forward to your reply, and thanks again for accepting the late submission.
My Son and My Dear Friend Have Asked Me to Write
a Poem on the Occasion of Their Wedding Ceremony
as if i could squeeze into words
the mountains and mountains
of hope prayers wishes angst concerns and joy
i hold around my son and dear friend becoming
wife and husband
husband and wife
as if I could actually still my mind
long enough for something
deep pure meaningful halfway intelligent
and what would it do?
what in the world could it tell you
that you don’t already know
and cannot possibly see
from where you stand today?
what can it teach you
about the very simplicity of love
what it is and what it isn’t
the complexities of growing and evolving
individually and together in that love
while surfing the tsunamis of life’s upheavals
and learning how to fly?
what could it divine and conjure
that you have not already felt?
after all, isn’t that why you’re here?
a poem perhaps
you two have already written