Does it matter?

by Marites Avisado-Responte

How many perfect days have passed?
I could never tell the difference
Yes, it rained last night
Did it offer me a smile?
Yesterday, the robust sun came out
But my room was as dark as it was
Does it matter?
Today, the green bush slithers
against the wall of an abandoned lot
I know not a thing is left unpainted
green, green all over, summer caressing
Does it matter, winter is coming?
The leaping of the day can’t wait
The setting sun quickly disappears
Seconds turn to an hour, days to years
Does it matter, if it’s too late?
I may be healed tomorrow
Or probably, not
Yet, day after day, I’ll live
It all matters…

Poems by theinflectionpoint.net

For the heart roars with poetry when it hits a turning point…

theinflectionpoint.net

by Marites Avisado-Responte

How many perfect days have passed?
I could never tell the difference
Yes, it rained last night
Did it offer me smile?
Yesterday, the robust sun came out
But my room was as dark as it was
Does it matter?
Today, the green bush slithers
against the wall of an abandoned lot
I know not a thing is left unpainted
green, green all over, summer caressing
Does it matter, winter is coming?
The leaping of the day can’t wait
The setting sun quickly disappears
Seconds turn to hour, days to years
Does it matter, if it’s too late?
I may be healed tomorrow
Or probably, not
Yet, day after day, I’ll live
It all matters…


For the heart roars with poetry when it hits a turning point…Image by ItesAR

Does it matter?

Silence

For the heart roars with poetry when it hits a turning point… ~ mtg 

by Marites Avisado-Responte

The unrehearsed prayer

 muttered by the heart

that forms the words 
and the mouth

that makes it heard

The burning lightning strikes at a distant horizon

sparks the deserted way…

Its neon glow shoots the stars up

The howling wind kisses

The snow-draped meadows

Where the butterfly pauses and listens

The sluggish dew gracefully slips

along the ribs of a leaf

stops at its tip, clinging

tempting to drop…

The migrant bird perching

the bare tree, searching

for pair tweeting and singing …

The snowflakes tenderly falls

along the weathered quay

where waves are tamed and free

The listless swaying

of the pine leaves stirs

the spiritless white morn

in the snowy moor

The wishing gush of the streams

chants the tenderest lullaby amidst

the most challenging trek and trail

The brave moon in December

gracefully shows up its splendor

against the web of clouds

and unabated mists  …

The slumber is perfected beneath

the cozy comforter where sighs

of weariness are forgotten

in its heavenly hug…

If silence is broken by my own chatter

all alone I am left not appreciating

the noiseless art and beauty that

tap my noisy heart…


10452362_10203859382100554_5781705630971545966_nMarites Avisado-Responte, fondly called Ites, is a dear friend who loves to write poems. She will be a regular contributor to the Poetry section of The Inflection Point.