I once believed this moment would endure,
For just a fleeting second, I was sure,
But in a heartbeat, it came and went away,
Leaving a lasting mark that's here to stay.
I forgot our vulnerability, it's true,
Assumed forever was what life would do,
Then like a lightning bolt, the wave did crash,
Taking loved ones in its blinding flash.
Families torn, husbands, wives, fathers, and daughters,
Sons vanished beneath the relentless waters,
Before it struck, I thought it wouldn't pass,
But then reality hit, like shattered glass.
My thoughts that day, constrained and small,
Now I wonder if I'll think the same at all,
No more time for pondering, it's clear,
Action is the call, and we must steer.
Life spins on, with thinking left behind,
It's time to act, no more room for the mind,
In this new world, we must stand tall,
For what remains of life, we'll give our all.
About the Creator
Layla Amzile
Hey, I’m LAYLA . I grew up in MOROCCO, I speak Arabic, fransh and English. I love backing and editing . I’ve always wanted to improve my English writing so now that I have the time, I’ve finally signed up for vocal.media to try to improv.
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A Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
By Rob Angeli5 days ago in Poets
Smartystan
Rain didn’t stop Mala. Swaddling for Edgar covered the baby boy’s body and she held her other son’s, Burton, six-year-old hand. The mud, muck, and mire didn’t hinder her from staying on course with her mission. From Pennsylvania, they all trekked to get closer and closer to land that was never promised but simply implied. Each step produced more mud caked around her sneakers. She didn’t care. Her rucksack provided them protein packs to put into plastic bottles and nuts and berries and dried meats to keep their muscles in good health. Water hydrated. She rested. The baby had been asleep the entire time that she had started her journey and her eldest son remained silent throughout the excursion as well.
By Skyler Saunders3 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
I enjoyed the rhymes and images