If I never write another poem
It will probably go unnoticed
In a world where we have too many words,
The problem is that most words,
Are angry, or bitter or demeaning,
Our hearts so broken,
We don’t even recognise we
are aching for a kinder word,
And, when a kindness comes
we don’t hear,
Because there are too many voices,
Wanting to be heard,
Words spoken without thought,
We carry on not hearing,
The unwritten poem disappears,
Unnoticed in the angry sea.
If I were to write a poem,
I want to find the words
That are able to trust that kindness,
Is what shapes our essence,
When brokenness shatters everything,
I want to write a poem,
That is able to hold every one
of those broken pieces,
And, say I love each one of you,
My noticing enabling that next step,
Along the dimly lit path,
With the words of my poem,
Inviting enough trust,
To take one more step.
