A Work In Progress
I planted a seed because I wished to make something of it.
I watered it and gave it light, fed it and watched it grow.
It took root and in its season,
became a splendid plant that yielded fruit.
I took up a thread because I wished to make something of it.
It became a stitch, which began a pattern,
that encompassed a great fabric;
an intricate story woven of beauty and grace.
I picked up a spoon because I wished to make something of it.
It started a soup, that became a meal,
that, in turn, became a feast and fed many people
who were suffering and sorely in need.
I opened my hand because I wished to make something of it.
It became a bridge connected to another hand,
connecting to the body of another human being
who eventually became a friend, a teacher or even a loved one.
I wrote a single word because I wished to make something of myself.
It became a sentence, an idea, the lyric in a song,
the stanza in a poem, a grand epic, a commentary on life.
It took shape and form as all manner of things and in time,
it redeemed me.
I am my own work in progress.
The Poetry of Valerie Cruz
My Place in the World
I know this place.
It is a sacred and revered place.
The ground has been hallowed by the endless cycle of life and death.
Happiness and sorrow have been wrought here.
I have trod this plot of earth to scatter ashes to the four corners.
I have walked these halls in every human condition.
So much a part of me, as to know the meaning of any creak
or echo they render.
Each crevice holds a well-
each shelf a treasure worthy of a queen.
At night, with the winds' borrowed voice,
it sings hymns to me of the past and the yet, unborn, future.
Rooted deep within my spirit is the ancient tree,
which crowns this strange land.
It has watched me grow like a silent sentinel.
This is my place in the world.
Now, I must move on to a new place
but I will always know you and you me.
We speak the same secret language
and when I shut your portal for the last time,
I will leave with you a part of myself, which belongs to no other.
Perhaps when I am very old, I will seek you out again.
To drink deep of my memories,
bid goodbye one last time, as is fitting,
then return home.
Lamentations
Today, I saw the earth stand still.
Thunder crashed and fire shocked the skies.
Skyscrapers toppled with a mighty sound.
Then smoke and silence where, moments before, were human noises.
Planes descended and hearts changed forever.
Hope and desolation were framed in three beloved colors.
Shattered glass and twisted metal,
the breeding ground upon which, heroes were formed.
In one foul stroke, in one bright flash.
In the time it takes to draw a breath.
The simple incontrovertible truth emerged.
The earth stood still today.
Spring Thaw
Charm fades.
A surface cloak, at best.
Below, where love draws deep,
the dark void in us waits to be filled.
His eyes laughed, bringing love to mind
or perhaps, it was just a trick of the light.
So much of life, better lived in retrospect.
Beyond consciousness of thought,
time, suspended for the present,
is that steaming cup of tea, a purring cat,
continuous flow.
I look for answers on a park bench.
Winter, having barely relaxed its’ grip,
I watch for signs of emergence.
Nearby, on the path, an elderly couple falls into perfect step.
Frail fingers seek for warmth.
She turns toward him, a Madonna smile on her lips.
Aged eyes see the reality of blue.
A time of longing,
back when love and desire were one.
Meanwhile, on the frigid horizon,
naked branches huddle close.
Sleep and dream of green.
© 2009 eMuse-
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Author’s Bio
Valerie Cruz began writing as a singer/songwriter. Her love of the written word soon expanded into other forms of writing such as: poetry, short stories and Haikus. Her poetry has been showcased in several publications and ezines (including Smorgasbards, Forward Press (U.K.) and Pocono Jazz and Poetry). Her poem The Dream will be included in an anthology about America, being published this summer. She frequently does live readings of her work, throughout the New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania areas.
