Witness

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Witness

I hope this poem speaks for itself. I hope it can express what so many have felt and feel and say it out loud.

Sit calmly
on this,|
our special chair.

Your eyes,
witnesses,
sometimes present
other times, afar.

Awaken that voice
needing to express
the shaped and misshaped.

Let your pen
connect with your heart,
bring images to life.

The plants grow
and the birds nest.
The wind progresses
over trees and glens
while rain blends with smoke
and shadows.

And further afield
laments and tears
hide under rubble.

A mother
searches for bread
a drop of water to calm the burn
a safe corner to keep their child.
A father knows he’ll be gone
in the morning
a last kiss on his lips
for that child.

Sit tearful
on this,
your special chair.

Your eyes,
witness
life in its expressions.

Your heart broken
by beauty,
by pain.

Leslie Jones October 2023

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