poetry

Poetry that comes from the depths of the soul and wants to be heard by all our fellow ones.

Marked by a Sign

/ Edilson Afonso Ferreira / 2 Comments

I have been walking world’s corners

and have kept in touch with all of us.

You who always helped me and became my friend,

but there were those who did not understand me,

did not like me, became enemies, opponents.

Among my friends, some gave me much more,

like their entire being, becoming an angel,

protector, guide, even a true lover.

There were those who corrected me, and,

like a father, gave me some understanding

that I had need of.

I intend to consider everyone as a brother,

in this great group that brings together

our entire human race.

A race that has been marked from birth with a sign,

that everyone is responsible for all of their equals.

It is a mark that many of us prefer to forget,

not applying it in their daily lives,

what could differentiate ourselves   

from all other living beings.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Recurring Dreams, left along the Way

/ Edilson Afonso Ferreira / Leave a comment

We have passed through stumbles, pitfalls

and spells, almost daily,

which remain in the past, some of them

even into oblivion.

But really, we still do not know from where

and how, in its due time,

we have achieved strength to overcome

and to go ahead.

We know, or at least, believe,

that in our own power this could not be accomplished

without the contribution of a supernatural 

and transcendent Power

that we are not able to understand or qualify.

We got used to attributing these experiences  

to luck or fortuity, or even some

supposed but unknown merit of our own 

that we cannot firmly expect to continue.

This is the fate of us humans, fragile beings

who live in faith and hope of the expected miracle

which will lead us to the redemption of our race:

     The discovery of that once promised land,

      where milk and honey flow in abundance

      and evil never finds shelter.  

(Published in West Ward Quarterly, Fall 2024 issue)

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Mishaps in Time

/ Edilson Afonso Ferreira / Leave a comment

The faucets of time are always open

and it runs like wild colts,

in the open fields without limits or fences,

in summer days and fresh green grass.

Time is not tamed, have not been recruited

or trained the toilers for this craft;

it takes all of us and everything around,  

and, as if it had been taught the path to follow,

does not delay or hesitate.

Has been doing its task since world’s lead-off,

and never ponders what has been ordered.

Day and night, in joy and sadness,

willingly or forced,  

old, young, rich and poor, wise and foolish,

we are carried away like dry leaves in the fall.

Let’s be proud and adapt to this journey,

not allowing to the scars, personal

or collective, the power to postpone

or eliminate the search of our Eldorado,                                       

once promised from olden generations.

Endemics, pandemics, pain and loss,

may we subject all of this,

for they never have had, or even will,  

greater significance than so happy and glorious a fate, 

long enshrined, inside our most cherished belief and hopes.

Published in WestWard Quarterly, summer printed 2022 issue

http://www.wwquarterly.com     

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©