WFSC Creative Writing Facilitators Mike Deregowski and Kelsey Hoople challenge you to participate in national poetry month. 1 poem per day for 30 days with no working ahead. 😉
Overall theme 'The Great Escape'.
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Day 7 | April 7th | Promise Land
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Promise Land
Somewhere far away
A new land awaits your dreams
The risk is worth fear
Opportunities
Jobs, land, learning and purpose
Choices mean freedom
The road won’t be smooth
Doubt will cloud the way forward
Your faith will guide you
Settle and dig deep
Forge thick roots with strength
Nurture with courage
So, a promise met
For generations to come
Lives on in your name
Lana O’Neill
April 18, 2020
7. Promise Land
Her little hand is cold despite her mother’s grip
They stand amongst the others waiting to board the ship
No longer would they feel the weight of oppression
They planned to make a change, sail away from depression
The journey forward meant leaving behind all they knew
As the day approached, her mother’s anxiety grew
Crossing the ocean alone with a child – no easy task
Prayers said to the night – safety was all that she asked
Together nestled in a dark hull crowded with gear
Mother whispers comforting words to her daughter’s ear
“No more wondering if… or asking ourselves why
Just you and I, darling, now hush, don’t you cry.
The land ahead is…
Promised Land
buried deep, deep in the pits of darkness and despair
suffocating, grieving, lamenting
starving and burning in self pity
engulfed in the wilderness of hell and sorrow
desperation, desolation and depression
like there's no life, no light
But then something sparked
that smile from a careless, innocent child
that hint of sunshine and fresh air
robin singing and that tiny, green sprout
engulfing smell of hyacinth and basil
tik tok and IG dance parties
wait a minute
I have to wake up and free up
movement and space and freedom
shake myself up
there is a promise
there is Hope
and it's real in my heart and mind and body
and there is power
i am coming to…
Promise Land
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The stories we have all told
Tell of the nights and days we can’t count,
Of a torment beyond ourselves, from upon high, behold!
Let us testify upon castle mount
To that which we cannot see him, be it person, virtue or belief,
All these stories read the same, to ask
And beg of forgiveness and relief
From a plight, a burden, a mistake of too much task.
But you ask me my promise land,
And I daresay it is much less than those of faith.
For in those wastes away beyond eye-and-hand
Forever, it is something hidden I will chase.
The land of which I call promise,
Is one of my own, far beyond you and…