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Roger White Poem
Voices from the Stones
A message from those who made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.
Make these stones everlasting. We will tell you how.
Do not stand before these stones and weep.
We gave our lives, but we do not sleep.
Our names and ranks are etched in these stones.
Sturdy, more enduring than our flesh and bones.
Read our names, see our day
we gave our all for you to say…
…FREEDOM IS MINE!
Freedom is our gift for you to share.
it is also a duty you must bear.
Our loss of life is your gain,
Do not let us die for you in vain.
Pass freedom on and it will keep.
Fail in your duty, and we will surely sleep.
By: Roger White - Operation Desert Storm Veteran
Copyright © Roger White | Year Posted 2024
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Roger White Poem
Breath
Life begins not when we exit our mother’s womb,
not when we are severed from our mother’s body.
Life begins with a gentle tap from a stranger.
We gasp, we begin to breath. And so, life begins with
our first precious breath.
Breath is Expression
It is the wind on which the voice sails.
The zephyr from where song floats.
A sudden gust that carries our laughter.
The roiling tempest that thunders our fury.
A warm breeze that whispers our passion.
It is the hush that conveys our grief.
Breath is Life
Breath recycles life and refreshes the soul.
Each breath is a new start, a precious gift.
An offer to make each new moment better than the one before.
Breath is Dying
One day, we will take our last breath.
For some, that last precious breath will be
a gentle sigh of relief, a slow billow of regret,
a soft whisper of endearment.
And then life will end as it began, with a precious breath.
Roger White
Copyright © Roger White | Year Posted 2024
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Roger White Poem
Of Passing Cloud
- Roger White
Unaware of the world below, a wispy cloud suspended between Heaven and Earth
drifts westward against an azure sky…
…blithely
As if coaxed by an unseen presence or hastened by a gentle call,
reaches the setting sun of the western horizon…
…quietly
Awash in hues of gold, beautiful and radiant,
delicate tendrils touch the night’s first stars…
…gently
A wispy cloud escapes the bonds of Earth,
ascends into the embrace of Heaven…
…peacefully
Copyright © Roger White | Year Posted 2024
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Roger White Poem
I was conceived in the warm haven of a mother’s womb. Developing..........growing………. morphing……….through the epochs of time. Then suddenly, on no day in particular, I emerged into the sunlight.
Mother never asked how I was or where I was. Unnoticed, unwanted. Kicked, trampled, tossed. I lay still in the dust for countless millennia. But unlike flesh, time smoothed my countenance and gave me ethos.
And again, on no day in particular, slender fingers gently lay hold of me. They lifted me off the very site from which I had witnessed the passing of time, the evolution of my environment, the tempest of human history.
I was taken to unfamiliar surroundings. I had known only decaying branches that served as habitat to life’s smaller creatures. I had witnessed only thirsty grass and weed struggling to survive in the parched soil. I had come to rely on the sun to repeat its rise and fall and signify the passing of time.
Now, I am neighbor to polished mahogany, flowers in vases, plants in pots. The sun seems to come and go as marked by the arrival and departure of the natives residing in this new locale.
I have been given venue. My visage sparkles in the light. I am noticed, I am wanted. I am admired and appreciated as the art of nature. A new epoch has begun.
I am a rock
I gave life before you existed. I sculpted the land before you lived on it.
I have been the ice on your mountains, I have been the warm tea in your cup.
I have been your tears of happiness. I have been your expression of grief.
I washed the feet of Roman emperors and the face of Christ.
I have quenched your thirst. I have drowned your children.
I have saved your homes from fire and I have washed them away in flood.
I have been reborn countless times, but I have never died.
I will never leave you. Even though you underappreciate my value.
I will remain in your presence, for without me you will die.
I am water.
Roger White/21 April 2024
Copyright © Roger White | Year Posted 2024
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Roger White Poem
Your ego will deceive you,
Integrity never will.
On Wealth
The wise man said to a poor peasant: I will make you wealthy.
Of the three riches I offer, what do you wish as wealth?
Gold and many servants
Wisdom and many followers
Integrity and many enemies
The peasant contemplated, then answered:
Integrity, with all wealth comes enemies.
With gold and servants, I will know my enemies when I become poor.
With wisdom and followers, I will know my enemies when I become feeble.
With integrity and enemies, I will know my enemies because I am honest.
- Roger White
Copyright © Roger White | Year Posted 2024
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