Reshaped Poems

Alphabet of Light

the early sun drapes gently across the branches
a whisper of promise, of new golden chances
A BRIGHT MORNING OPENS EVERY QUIET DOOR
and shadows retreat where the sun will restore

love clings tenderly in petals that shine
hearts lift overhead like branches that climb
BEAUTY BECOMES BLOSSOMS, BOLDLY BREAKING THROUGH
and faith feels steady, reshaped and born anew

waves whisper gently, curling near the coast
dreams drift forward, the ones I cherish most
COURAGE CAN COME, PEACEFULLY CALLING ME HOME
leading the lost where the spent still roam

night leans close and stars give counsel to the sky
hope clears gently and grief learns to fly
DREAMS DESCEND QUIETLY, GLOWING THROUGH MY HEART
and love, unwavering-binds what was torn apart

A Strong Woman

She rises with the morning sun,
Unfinished battles, never done.
With quiet strength and fearless grace,
The fire of purpose on her face.

She walks through storms without a sound,
Her dreams are roots deep in the ground.
She bends, but never breaks in two—
The world may test, but she'll push through.

Her hands may ache, her heart may bleed,
Still, she gives all to those in need.
With every scar, she shines more bright,
A warrior cloaked in gentle light.

She speaks her truth, she owns her name,
Unshaken by the winds of shame.
She loves with depth, she leads with soul,
Each wound she wears has made her whole.

A strong woman—fierce, bold, and wise,
A mirror of the endless skies.
Not just in strength, but love she stands—
The world reshaped by her own hands.

The Cost of Progress

Through ages past, we forged ahead,
With gleaming tools where dreams were led.
Soft metal pipes, they carried flow,
Yet silent poison crept below.

A glowing spark, in dials bright,
Lit up the dark, but stole the light.
Brushes kissed lips, an artist's pride,
Yet bones grew frail as youth subsides.

Fibers woven, fire's foe,
In walls and mines, their curse would grow.
Lungs turned stone, and whispers fade,
A heavy price their lives have paid.

Secrets stirred in shadowed halls,
Where science's call brought down great walls.
Beasts reshaped, but lost their core,
What soul survives such cruel rapport?

Beauty painted to beguile,
Yet venom lurked in every vial.
Tremors came, minds slipped away,
For fleeting grace, the toll we pay.

Now batteries hum, and engines thrive,
Yet flames may leap where sparks survive.
The earth protests, its veins run dry,
What cost we bear, we must decry.

Each step we take, each bright new flame,
Holds truths we fear to give a name.
But heed the past, its lessons learn,
Lest futures bright to ashes turn.

FOREVER GONE

    At fifteen, fate dealt a cruel, swift blow,
To Kansas City, Kansas, forced to go.
 
Graduation dreams, with friends, forever gone,
A life disrupted, a lonely, weary dawn.
             
A mother’s absence, a chasm deep and wide,
 Cast adrift on the streets, nowhere to hide.
 
   Culture shock, a whirlwind, school a fearsome place,
Hopes and dreams extinguished, leaving not a trace.

 Playing the hand, a bitter, lonely game,
Accepting shadows, embracing fleeting fame.
 
A life reshaped, by forces unforeseen,
A resilient spirit, though the wounds remain the same.

Let the Words of My Mouth

Let the words of my mouth have backbone
Buoyed by the sinew of thoughtless thoughts
May they be freely formed and fashioned
On the smooth surface of an unyielding anvil

Hammered in the heat of passion’s angst
Molded in the flame of sightless vision
Nurtured by the touch of unfelt hands
Polished in the innocence of love’s longings

For how else will they be my words
If stolen, reshaped, reworked, weakly rekindled
Would I not be but a chirping echo
Scratching at a stained-glass soul

Would that my words and meditations 
Be the reflection of my heart’s belief
Set free within the moments calm
To stir a gently passing breeze

January Dragonflies

These wanderers defy winter's chill
    Suspended in the frosty air —
    I count the hours, lost in despair
Since carefree days we can't fulfill

My old radio crackles, weak
    Amidst the noise and static's hum —
    Remember how we'd twirl and drum
Beneath those moons on shores unique

Their wings recall our soaring dreams
    Through secret paths, time left behind —
    Before the world reshaped our mind
Before we changed like shifting streams

These beings brave the morning's bite
    Like echoes that refuse to die —
    I've kept your notes, can't say goodbye
To fill the emptiness of night

They flit across my window pane —
    These visitors who linger still
    Like slivers of our past that spill
Through shadows, bringing joy and pain

-

Traveling the Stillness

A rooted backyard rock,
blooms
in the morning sunlight.

All night
it has been time travelling
through the history of the earth,
now it is flowering,
for the light has reshaped it
into stillness once more.

For an unfurling moment
we both cast no shadow
upon this spiraling eon,
as we orbit a sun
together.

Bridges and Mosaics

I will no longer seek your gaze,  
no longer linger on the edge of silence,  
the absence stretching like a vast horizon.  

I will not reach for your warmth,  
no longer draw maps in the air  
of what we could be,  
the path winding like a whisper,  
echoing in my heart,  
unanswered.  

From now on, I will stand beside you,  
my love reshaped into friendship,  
a sturdy bridge spanning the chasm,  
supporting your every step in the wild,  
the dreams you chase,  
even if they unfurl away from me.  

I will fold my longing into quiet corners,  
like a letter never sent,  
until the day you turn—  
and I hope you do—  
to build something extraordinary,  
a mosaic of moments shared,  
freely joined,  
the vibrant colors of connection  
illuminating the space between us.

Westward

Westward
in the winter mist
unwavering
wing-beat rhythm
thrusting
purposeful
powerful
pale creatures
of a pale world,
outstretched
magnificence
reshaped
from the haughty elegance
of arched necks
and curved wing-folds
white
on a summer’s placid lake.

On a cold foggy morning in Dorset, England, in January, 1992, I heard the distinctive wingbeats of swans approaching. Three of them passed by just to the north of me, giving me a very brief view before they merged back into the mist.
What a wonderful privilege to delight in God’s Creation!

And Be Transformed

And be transformed into a caterpillar's dream,
Shedding old skins for wings of vibrant hue.
Emerge from chrysalis, a golden beam,
A phoenix rising, born again anew.
Like clay reshaped by a potter's gentle hand,
Or ore refined in life's hot crucible.
A seed that breaks its shell to understand
The sky's expanse, once deemed impossible.
And be transformed into a prism-catching light,
Revealing colors hidden from our sight.

Rebirth

Scorned and ridiculed, 
She carried her affliction for years.  
There came a time when she bled. 
Until one day her body buckled  
And there laid she in her scarlet pool.  
That filthy maiden was as good as dead 
But Jesus reshaped her from earth’s dust 
And delivered her from the hands of the cruel.  

There came a time when 
the unborn in her womb laid still; showed no sign of life 
Curled in its fetal tomb, 
And concerned expressions  
On the faces of doctors 
Alas, were ready when they considered  the deciding factors. 
But she in all the noise, 
Lie unperturbed. 
No doubt,  
it was God who administered that herb. 
And in an instant rebirth 
The babe leapt, bounded and gallivanted. 

There came a time 
When all around her beloved child 
A fiery furnace closed in, 
But the loving arms of Jesus  
Enfolded the child with oxygen. 
  
Methinks that maiden would not have 
made it to the other side  
After the many years of  
Stained tears she cried. 
But she is Mother-Earth 
And God has granted her rebirth.

Knife Work

Whittling away another hour,
thoughts recycled into knife blades,

Forgive them, they but whittle you,
they shape the figure that sits and carves.

The shavings fall, the hour grows thin.
and when the work is done,

there will be no knife,

no reshaped figure,


only a hand -
whittling and writing.

Caterpillar-BUTTERFLY-FlY

Enthralled appalled eye-crawl;
I was in pieces broken and torn,
balls of sorted pieces scorn and worn;
 now gathered reshaped and formed,
 refreshed rebirth flying high whole I am I've risen,
From a caterpillar crawl to a butterfly flown;

12/26/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023

Woodwinds

" (Two roads) diverged in a yellow wood and I choose the
            the one less traveled by and that has made 
                              all the difference. "
                                             Quote by - Robert Frost 

I met a drummer in those woods
He sold me all his ill-used goods
He said that I should seek real change
Shake up the pieces – rearrange

The stride and gait of my pursuit
That whistling sound of whining flute
A draping flag they won’t salute
That sound well bent could be a hoot

Reshaped, reformed his useless trash
Now glistens with the sun’s panache
That road I took “less travelled by”
Has often made this “grown man” cry

And yet I still possess that urge
To down that road again diverge

©6/5/2023

Writing Challenge – D Quotes Poetry Contest

Constance La France - sponsor

Sand Dunes

The shape of sand dunes on the beach,
Shows the patterns etched by the sweeping wind,
Walking on the beach on a windy day,
I feel how my life changes with the emotions every day.

The drifts and mounds on the sand hill,
Waiting to be shaped and reshaped by the surf and wind,
The valleys and hills of my feelings,
Forms and reforms with the myriads of
events every day.

Ask sand dune what it is,
A heap of sand changing its form every moment,
I ask myself who am I,
I am what I am, changing with my emotions every day.

Sand dune. a shining sand castle in a golden sunset,
Or a buried chest of marine treasures,
My life, a mirage full of hopes.
Or a Pandora's box full of life's trials and tribulations.

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