Young Writer, Missing

Where are you now? With the audience silenced.
Can you return? Can I find you? The critics miss
Your beautiful voice speaking, drawing visions
Of life and time, of vision and hope, a woman in yellow.
Her hat as is held in place by a hand, a pin,
A ribbon. Slipping on and off the bus.

I miss you with the audience gone. Quiet air.
Friends are far apart these days,
Imaginary, real, internet friends, have life.
All kept apart by electrons rotating, holding hands
Turning in waltz time, 3/4 time, one, two, three
Heard beyond time as planets revolve blending with each other

Cosmos tracking galaxies, so the revolution
Relies on you, a woman scorned, no, not you.
You, a writer, spectator, talent, rider of buses
But someone said, and someone did. Hurting,
You left us, all alone, missing the train you
Put before us to ride, taught to negotiate with our souls.

I call you as your grandmother might, cheerfully
Near the clothes line, over a fence, worried
At tea with a friend. Where are you now?
Traveling back and forth, seeing a desert,
A plain, a woods. The Cat seeking your hand purrs.
Comfort from warm sunny days on the porch swing.

I read them over and over, your words, hoping that I'll see
A sign of life, a breath, star dust, your smile.
Are you coming back? Be brave. Words are only words.
But they live for us, grow as infants, loved,
Even when they scold, they love. Eyes smile, arms hug, 
Don't leave, don't run away, by bus, train.

Pace the Change of Hearts

Weekly Writing Prompt #82

Pace your hate, as you line up for the cause
Of suppression.
Homogenous populations, all the same, in tacky
Red hats that
Support a change to control the liberal masses
And their ideology
Of helpful compassion. They give to others what
We don't have.
Betrayed by life, we blame all of you who want to
Continue Roosevelt's policy.

Heard on Fox news, conflicted and wounded,
Unmade in their beds.
Giving a face globally of self-centered anger,
A movement thought dead.
Those who hate, have buried seed, seed from
Eons hidden from light.
Majority voters, liberal thinkers, compassionate
Lovers of all,
Who are these new oppressed? Your mother, father, sister,
Brother, uncle, niece, aunt.

All liberals want is a chance to be happy, to share,
To be kind and considerate.
This is a crime, signed by a swirly pen, by a man
With tangerine skin,
Red hair died so that he cannot be old. A screamer,
A bully wishing to be
King of the swamp, the dark underbelly, anti-regulations
Of protection.
Our new leader, a sociopath, a leader of sociopaths,
Of spies and lies.

This is what the haters wanted. A chance to burn with
Fire and fist.
To force back into the box the godless, the "fairy",
The rebel child.
Force back into the box the librarian who allows that
Filth on her shelf.
Force back into the haze, our global responsibilities,
The cost we should not
Bear, and bare the back without brother, the bible 
Thumper in bunny clothes.

Beware your hate, for you are a candle in the dark,
Beware your match.
Reason is a dangerous opponent on the battlefield,
Where compassion 
Equals hope, hospitals, schools, wells, medical care,
Where a bridge
Is not too far, it pulls, tugs, pushes our knowledge
Of others, like a kite.
Beware the actor, the captain, the ship, who find 
Lie after lie
And tattle to the world. Pace your hate, because I
Will extinguish it.