Revision July 28 of I Was Looking For Jill

[jill stockinger]

This is my First revision of I Was Looking For . . .

–and I want to thank Nedra and Helen for their comments. 

I think this poem is a little clearer and a little stronger now.  Jill

Jill Stockinger

 

I Was Looking for . . .

 

dreams mired in the muck, eyes wide

to catch the scattered shine

of their hidden scintillating jewels

that flash like knives, whose truths

illuminate and wound our hearts.

 

I hear the faithful

moving slowly, bound by chains.

Grounded in loss, they are crying

in the wilderness for God and bread.

 

So many stories in every blood-soaked land.

So many ghosts who wish to be remembered;

so many who do not. There is some peace

in knowing I will be forgotten.

 

New life struggles to prosper,

to rise and surge with refulgent fruit

despite the surrounding air

of stifling inevitability and rot.

 

I hear confusing sounds. Is it laughter?

Happiness is often considered suspect.

Are they digging new graves

or creating new paths?