An Open Letter, from Red Earth to Paper
This is not a call to polish perfect rhymes
for quiet shelves in softly lighted rooms.
Take up your pen to map the fault lines,
where silent injustice shakes and booms.
Do not just sing of doves and olive trees,
but of the root that cracks the prison stone.
Write the plea that rides the stubborn breeze,
and turns a whispered truth to common tone.
For every ledger listing war's grim cost,
write one clear line that grief cannot erase.
Be the first, defiant green of frost,
the quiet anger shaping a kind face.
We are the scribes of heartbeats, not just years,
the gardeners of hope in fields of fears.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
