A Poet's Life

 by Cheryl Merrick

In a place where time has no meaning,
free from the constraints of our finite world,

where possibilities are endless,

my spirit soars

warmed by the light of truth,

experiencing the meaning of patterns below,

creating beauty, I rise into

the hope of the Son.

No Reflection

by Cheryl Merrick

I make a comment
and the room suddenly quiets.
After an awkward moment,
all resumes as before.

I mention I write,

again the embarrassed silence,

followed by a change of subject.

Could I really think so differently

that others have no idea 

how to respond to me?

Sharing my talent,

I watch as others shrink away,

uncomfortable by the unfamiliar,

so that I see no reflection of me

in their eyes.

A Poet's Longing

by Cheryl Merrick

In a quiet room with a comfy chair
and large windows overlooking the world,
I found my poet's heart.

Within is a craving to experience 
the hours of intense focus,
and the exquisite beauty 
in the flashes of inspiration 
which connect me to the divine.

I long to be warmed 
by the energy of creating,
and to, at last, enjoy that tender moment
when I gently hold my new insight lantern high
filling it with light and hope,
then watch as it slowly rises 
to sparkle in the world's dark night sky.

Wasted

by Cheryl Merrick

Like a jeweler's file
used as a tooth pick,
or a piano leg
wielded as a hammer;

Like a race horse
pulling a plow,
or a book merely
adorning a shelf;