Ernesto P. Santiago Poet Lyric

Taras Shevchenko

Taras follows me—

wherever I go, giving such 
inspiration, consent and dares me to speak 
out my mind; encouraging me 

to search for freedom, thru my 
thin voice, against the treacherous tactics 
of life.  Again and again, he’s 

speaking in a finest manner 
and as I talk to him he turns me not away. He stands 
amidst the trees. His eternal throne—

the park of Kyiv’s wisdom, where I love hanging 
around, waiting for the great red bell chimes. And, 
as always, as I pick the yellow caterpillar 

with two lights on to bring me home 
from a day’s travel, I see him nodding in silence, while 
hospitable hands wave in the wind.  Now I see 

his face no more, but 
everyday I feel him and hear his voices. His voices—
in the praises of my peers, in the psalms of 

my neighbors and of the people of the streets,
in the whirs of the birds and in the twitches of the fishes, 
in the smiles of the flowers and of the tares, 
 
in the sound of the rivers, of the seas, 
and of the mountains, too. He’s a friend I owe this life, 
urging me on—

to sow duds of thought, to bloom near a placid stream.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

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