I am Heaven

I trudge along
but my feet make no progress
I labor with no result
effort produces nothing more than a well worn rut
my heart aches in its lonliness
It longs to feel that deep connection
with another heart
I question my life
its meaning and purpose
before I reach the brink
the still small voice brings me back
it reminds me that I am heaven

I am heaven
I am an instrument of the divine
I am peace seeking its fullest expression
with a thought I create a world
my mind is a womb
nurturing ideas
bearing the fruit of my intentions

I am heaven
I echo the wisdom of the sages
I am filled with the enthusiasm
of a child
my feet have grown wings
to carry me forward
my heart has re-discovered its eternal connection
to the divine
now it no longer yearns but abides in joy

I am heaven
I live in the flow
I am a hollow reed
the shadow has no hold on me
freedom is my birthright
my destiny I complete

I am heaven
I am the one I have been waiting for

Copyright 2008 Evelyn Bourne

Spring: A Poem by Nobody in Particular

Spring’s been here mere moments
cresting the hill at Ft. Dupont
I see the sun creeping up over the horzin
bringing spring

this magic occurs each year
but my wonder never grows old
what was brittle and dead days ago
now is verdant, lush and reaching towards heaven

its an ordinary morning
I am nobody in particular
but I have poetry inside of me
mere words
but bursting with hope and promise
not unlike this precious new season

standing in witness to this rebirthing
brings renewed hopes
this endless cycle of birth and death
will continue on
there will be good days
and dark nights
there will be trials
and rejoicing
while the dream continues
God is

but today I am simply glad
to greet this newborn season
I celebrate the joy of a new day
mindful of how fleeting the moment
the gift is cherished

by Evelyn Bourne

(c) 2009

Inspired by the rain muse

a soft, steady drizzle escalates
downpours commence
frantic pedestrians dash
umbrellas unfurl
hair will have a kinky curl

I stand in rain-soaked shoes
arms outstretched
gazing up
rain-washed smiling face
peace descends

by Evelyn Beatrice Bourne

(c) 2000

Sistah Girl

Hey there, sistah girl
You who hold up half this world
When do you do you
Do you know who you are

When the cooking and the cleaning
The chastising and the cooing
are done for the day
When the shift is over and exhaustion has taken your mind
The children are finally asleep
And their clutter surrounds you

When do you do you
Do you know who you are
Where do you find the strength to continue
How will you make your dreams come true
Why is paradise so far

When the man you’ve loved leaves ’cause things got complicated
When life has become nothing more than a crumbling stair
leading where you don’t want to go
The pain you’ve been hiding from
side-stepping, re-scheduling, putting off,
smothering with gravy or ice-cream
has come to call
Do you face the pain
letting the disappointment and betrayal
the lies and the shame and the fear
wash over you

Hey there, sistah girl
You who hold up half this world
When do you do you
Do you know who you are

There is a hand of comfort to hold you up
who will not let you stumble too long
You possess a light within
that reveals your path ahead
Look inside yourself
Do you
Grow you
Rise above
Stand firm
Move with confidence
Only you can rescue yourself

Then one day you will look up
beyond the troubles of the day
You will rest a hand on the shoulder of another
who struggles as you struggled
Your new-found strength inspires hope

Hey there, sistah girl
You who hold up half this world
Do you know who you are
You are a miracle
Walk in peace
Your love, your light makes the world shine.

By Evelyn Beatrice Bourne
(c) 2008

The ‘Yes We Can’ Generation

I come and I sit with my laptop
soaking up the free wifi

watching the kids from around the way
signing up to use the free computers

in this place lined with books
the children do not read

they surf and they chat
watch videos
download music
cyber stalk each other

all while the shiny new books
lay undisturbed on pristine shelves

the distant winter sun streams through the window
I sit and I write
I wonder what will become of these children

these of the ‘yes we can’ generation
do they understand the potential they possess?

Written January 2009

A Dimpled Cheek

(for Jordan)

she has but one dimpled cheek
eyes of chocolate brown
hair kinky and soft
reaches her shoulder
in inky waves

her delicate spirit
fiery temper
generous heart
belie the sadness behind her eyes

she is a precious baby-girl
woman-child

she questions everything
imagines perfection

she decorates my world
with color
beauty
giggles
dances
kisses
and a single dimpled cheek

True

You promised forever love
fidelity loyalty
to be true
But now you say no
Your lips once tender
extended towards me
now pour forth vile deception

what you promised would be only for me
now freely given to another
I stand naked and alone
bereft but not bowed down
because my strength comes
from a place you know not

so be gone with you
say you’ll be true to another
but someday soon you find yourself
by yourself
deception begats bitter lonesome days
to be true

my heart will mend
and I will find another
who will promise to be true
I will reluctantly open my heart
to accept
to love
to trust

I will soar far from this place
my peace will be complete
joy brings peaceful contentment
I intend to be true

Written September 2007

Joy

Life has become a well worn rut
joy would help me rise above

They say joy comes in the morning
but I sure could use some now

peace I say to the hub-bub in my head
nobody knows the trouble I’ve caused
I can’t turn back now

take this cup
give me strength
to reach for what I long for
my spirit hopes
my body weary
joy would see me through

They say joy comes in the morning
but I sure could use some now

Written October 2007

The Promise of Spring

Here I stand with a familiar ache
In my belly
I watch other children running, screaming, playing
Wearing new clothes
Swinging bulging bags filled with sweet tasting snacks
And books

Here I stand with my grandmother
Wearing old shoes that are too big
She got them for me from the goodwill
When the pink ones wore out
We are waiting in line at this church
To see if there will be space for us
In the shelter
A warm bed rather than
Behind a dumpster
A ceiling above my head
Rather than the dark night sky
Threatening rain

Here I wonder will there ever be room for me
In this world of expensive things
Of shiny floors and sparkling lights
I want to go to school
To read new books
And wear a navy blue sweater
With a skirt to match
Shiny black shoes
That click when I walk on the hard floor

Here I stand clutching a tattered bag
Filled with all we own
We wait
I wonder
What the promise of spring
Holds for me.

Written on April 23, 2008 in response to a painting of a little girl.

What Have I Gained?

“What have I gained?” She asked with sincerity
This habit of starting a new day penning a fresh verse
This delving into my heart, my mind, my spirit
To find something worth sharing
As the trees display their delicately frothy blossoms
Early in spring
So I began at first tentatively to try my wings and pen a few verses

But as each day passed
Those ephemeral pink blooms have given way to sturdy Leaves
That will withstand the sun, wind and weather of the coming summer
So has the depth and the clarity of my writing grown
My muse has been faithful
Daily she has whispered inspiration
And I have been grateful
An unexpected pleasure has been the enjoyment I have gained
From reading the spontaneous verses of my TPL neighbors
Some have brought tears
Others have brought hope
Elicited feelings of empathy
Brought a smile
Or simply made me think

We write from a raw place
Opening up a vein and sharing the flow
Soothed by the pen
We have come together to bless the world with our gifts

I have gained an abiding appreciation for the strength
Of the human spirit
I have gained a deep respect for the talents of others
I have gained increased confidence in my writing ability.

Written on April 18, 2009