redstart bird, image by Wolfgang Vogt, on Pixabay
calls my attention.
through a prism
hanging in a window
on floor, walls,
my writing hand,
the edges of the page.
Yawning with little to say,
a simple, everyday soul
seeks my attention, too.
I respond with presence.
Not every moment
When Suffering Spoke
The suffering spoke. It could no longer be silent.
It told one story after another.
There seemed to be no end
There was weeping, mournful cries of the voices
of mothers, children, witnesses tearing their
garments while banging their heads.
Flames rose hot, rain poured down
like crashes of thunder, waves
of despair, of longing, of pain.
The cries of the world, the broken world,
filled almost all of the space there was.
Except for a sliver of moonlight, a tenderness,
a merciful receiver, a vulnerable heart.
Courageous and invincible like a pearl
open to presence, shining, clear, pristine.
Madlynn Haber lives in Northampton, MA.
Her work has been published in the anthology
Letters to Fathers from Daughters, in Anchor Magazine, Exit 13 Magazine and on websites, including Mused Literary Review, Hevria,
Right Hand Pointing, Mothers Always Write,
Random Sample, Club Plum Literary Journal,
Ariel Chart, The Sunlight Press, Sparks of
Calliope, and Adelaide Literary Magazine.
You can view her work at: www.madlynnwrites.com