Poems by Marcela Villar M

Marcela Villar M

Poems by Marcela Villar M

 

 

Speaking Waves Reach the Shore

 

My heart collapses when I see
A tiny body I consider my own
I want to hold him and comfort him
I want to bring him back to life
I want to keep his small body warm
In the immensity of the cold ocean

But my efforts are small as well
Is he my son? Flesh of my flesh?
My skin hurts. Hurt is my soul.

Oh, sea, how long did you keep his life?
How long did his dreams of cotton-candy
Stay smiling under our loads of hate?

I want to hold him tight to my body
But he is not my baby to hold so close
A woman is dying a thousand times over
In the same ocean under the same hate

 

© All rights reserved. Marcela Villar M. Author 2015.

 

 

 

Love is our only salvation

 

We see death coming to the shore
Little hands curled in quiet sorrow
Our anguish is indescribable
As we cry with prayers in our mouth
And we hear no answers back
Because we only hear our own shame

Shame drains our eyes
Shame conquers our planet
Shame bathes our bodies
Shame is our last name!

We see our reflection in the water
It is our own small tiny body tortured
The waves have returned it for all to see

For all to see our human smallness
For all to see our failures
For all to see the blood of God
As we crucify His Son again
And we kill His prophets again
And we make war among billions
Of particles of sand covering humanity

We are all dead

Love is our only salvation

 

©Marcela Villar M. 1:00 am September 4th. 2015. Seattle, Washington. USA.

 

 

 

Water-Drops

 

Calmness is sought
by many on the top
of mountains,
but it reigns inside our own eyes.
We could see ourselves in
the reflection of our dreams,
as they carry us
in subtle steps.

Nothing is as complex
as a drop of water,
yet many drown in
lexicons of useless philosophies;
chants of never ending
fallacies satisfy their table.

However, we all hide in our
own tears,
when they soak
our mouths in sadness.

When rain descends
as a loving mantle
over our fragile skin,
we recognize
the force of love
in
each drop.

It is love that cleans us,
only love.
And it’s shaped
in the form of water-drops when
in the womb,
and as tears when life
teaches us how to walk
its roads.

 

© All rights reserved. Author Marcela Villar M. 2014.

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