POETRY STOPS OUR TEARS
It rains again in my land, it rains Poetry
on my heart, and a poem like a documentary
by the ocean of my peace
you still rain heavy on me
Sometimes, it doesn’t matter how often
it rains tears as a warning
raining from the discolored history of my country
from the history of our minds
from the shared history of the planet
how many tears will it rain?
How much rain of tears?
We all know, minds of love
and clarity we are
rain of light we are.
Light stay, we understand you.
Shine again, make time brighter.
In the meantime, every morning
a prayer I start, a prayer of pure words
the world loves, a prayer we start
for our planet, a poem-rain of love
for you
© Roula Pollard
