Breast Cancer Survivor's Footprints
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"Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting with the gift of speech."

                                                                         Simonides
                                                                         Greek poet (556 BC - 468 BC)
Collection of Poems
Written: By Aribel  Leon Parris

Dico
I believe in dreams,
where the sky will not cast limits;
where valleys and obstacles
will loosen their vise.

I believe in dreams,
that will not be denied,
no cell can quite confine.

The Latin word Dico has meanings, mainly: (dictum) to say,
tell, speak, name, call, pronounce. 

Source: Latin Word List

In my sorrow
I cried out to God

Bulwark
[Strong Tower]

Bid to me
and I shall come
like a bird flying
on the wings
of the morning
so that I might find rest
from all my earthly woes.

Bulwark is a protection, guard, shielding, shepherding me
Gaviota is a seabird

Houdini
I thought I had lost you . . . 
Like you lose a missing sock
somewhere in between the process
from the washer to the dryer;
Or the needle,
lost between blades of hay;
Ah, the penny,
in a pocket filled with holes.

But when I looked . . . 
you appeared. 
Like that missing sock,
stuck in between the walls.
within the debris of lint and dust;
And found the needle,
nothing a magnet could not grasp;
Oh, the penny,
sooner or later to be always found.

But overall you always proved to be,
the unanticipated,
the exceptional,
overwhelming surprise,
at the bottom,
in my box of Cracker Jacks.

I Dream
I dream of dreams 
somewhere beyond the sky,
or the depths of the deep blue sea,
that fly like the wind
knowing no boundaries or space.

I dream of dreams
the eagle's eyes have never seen,
Yet finding its nesting place
within my heart and mind.

I dream of dreams . . . 

If
If I told you that I love you,
Would you still be my friend?
Would you embrace me just the same?

Or should I exercise restraint,
As if my heart and mind
Were under no apparent constraint?

Introvert
I stood,
I watched.
Like a pauper begging,
for one single chance;
A pence,
for one solitaire dance.

The silent onlooker
who could only window shop;
with stairwells reaching,
beyond the depths
of the sky.

Insomnia
The night lingers mute,
shimmering in her robe
midnight blue.

Studded with diamond stars,
glimmering like rays of sunlight,
beaming from her sides.

Mirror
I wanted a part of you,
as embodied in a child. 
A replica of our genetics,
carefully integrated.

Flesh of our flesh,
bone of our bone.
The seed of your loin,
the fruit of my womb.
An extension of us,
A portrait of you.

Patty Cake
Fair weather friend,
tit-for-tat
for a game of patty cake,
or a round of hopscotch.
You temporary in my sandbox
bobbing in, bobbing out,
like a jack-in-the-box.

Rejection
I have loved intensely,
though find myself neglected,
following after a mirage,

Disintegrating like cotton candy,
in my mouth,
With residual food coloring,
staining my heart and mind.

Solace
​I love the quietness, 
of the early morning.
When the dawn of day
greets the sunrise,
with its rays 
brightening my corner.

When in moments of solitude,
I contemplate
His majesty,
infinite power and glory.

And at awe
with the intricacies,
nobility, gracefulness,
intelligence and beauty,
the wonder,
of His handiwork.

And that God knew me,
long before I was 
and loved me just the same,
in spite of myself.

I love the quietness,
of the early morning.
When the dawn of day
greets the sunrise,
with its rays
brightening my corner.

Spinster
The doors of the cathedral
swayed wide open.
But there I stood alone,
by the altar;
While turtle doves hovered,
peering through fiberglass windows.
And spring was dressed,
laced with hues,
of my winter blues.

Tears
I have tasted 
the sweat,
from the toil
of hard labor.

I have tasted
the sweat,
from the toil
of life.

Yearnings
This thing I want . . .
Demands
to be satisfied,
not ignored, 
or silenced.

It makes me . . . 
Yearn,
as if from hunger pangs;
Thirst,
like the taste for water
in a parched desert;
Stirs me,
like a hurricane 
restless in mid-sea;
And feel its Void,
like the hollowness, 
of an empty room.

Song: The Power of Your Love - Hillsong, Por el Poder De Tu Amor - Marinella Arrue, Su Amor Bastara (HMtv) on YouTube

© Copyright 2017 Breast Cancer Survivor's Footprints, All Rights Reserved
 P.O. Box 533, Manhattan, KS 66505-0533, aribel.leon@gmail.com

All artwork, poetry, calendar, video, and content are property of Breast Cancer Survivor's Footprints, Aribel Del Carmen Leon Parris. Images and content cannot be reproduced for commercial or non-commercial purpose without authorized written permission.
Credits given to individual artist and their work. All references noted where applicable.  
Breast Cancer Survivor's Footprints does not assume intellectual authority of cited sources.