Musing, Poetry

Is that You, God?

You gave me quite the scare, standing there, on the corner with your sign, Will Work For Food
Raggedy pup at your feet, needs a bath, something to eat, but I drove on like I was too good, for you

Man missing a limb, leans on his crutches thin, beard has seen better days
Sign says, Help, God bless you, please
I feel my irritation grow, impatient for him to know, that I don’t like what I see
I turn in fear, can’t let him near, won’t let my conscience win

Is that You, God, hiding in that dog, begging for food?
Is that You, standing there with unwashed hair, seeing if I’m doing what I’m supposed to do?
Is that You, across the way who makes me feel afraid, because I don’t know the answers that You need?

God, is that You?

It’s the young mom that I see, with her kids of three, making ends meet-the only way she knows how
The monthly check is gone, food is no more
Yet I won’t give a dollar for her plight, anger fills my soul, as I’m selfish all the more-
In sharing what I have in life

Little hands reach out, begging for anything
I cross the street to avoid them, don’t want to soil my hands,
Ignore them if I can,
Keep my eyes trained at my feet

 

©2016, Becki Alfrey

Advertisements
Poetry

The Mirror

With scorn and malice I pull back the shroud that covers the silver-lined reflection of my soul
I see confusion, blurred lines; marbled realities unfold in this chamber of torture

As a woman, I am taught to judge incessantly, to strive for perfection, to be a number, not myself
To fit in Cinderella’s tiny shoe

I see every pit, curve, dimple, mark, spot, darkness, wrinkle, fear;
I see them all
I strain to re-create this beautiful creation that I cannot see-to somehow morph it to others standards

I lean in and look closer, careful not to lose myself in this dark pool of hatred

I focus. I refuse to see what others see; I look deep into the sad, haunted eyes staring back at me and recognize love.
Hidden, but peeking from beneath hooded lids, finding a crack and shining-straining for all the world to see, to be noticed; to be shared.

Daring- to bare the truth, the beauty, the ugliness, the pain, sorrow and humanity kept in this bottle of confusion.
Out it flows, creating a deformed meme of what should be, inking up my vision, muddying my mind.

I push-push away, I fight, I scream. The agony of being held back so long is released in a mournful wail. I must break free.
Refusing to bend or bow to a cruel, cold world, or break under the strain of another’s load.

Standing tall, in peace, in acceptance and in grace- I live.

 

© 2014, Becki Alfrey

Poetry

Woman

Layers, pools of mystery and luxuriousness
Softness with hard edges
Deep, dark sadness tinged with the brightest sunshine
Moans and sighs and shouts of hallelujah
Unafraid of the world, pushing through waves of
Disappointments to find the greatest triumphs
Passion that seeps from every cell until the world
Is awash with her presence
Her gentle touch soothes both babes and man
Tenderness and fervor, balanced in kinship, forward and ever moving
I am she and she is I, who are we and who is you.
Our oneness is infinite, invisible strings bind us
Across oceans and sands of time, we are serial and intangible
Unyielding and lenient
Yet your reach for us is eternal, unable to resist the chaos and wonder
That you feel when we are yours, but never yours,
For we are there and gone again, seeking, searching for perpetual happiness
In dreams yet discovered and in faith of things to come.

© 2015 Becki Alfrey