I saw a contest posted that said write about your place in the world for a chance to win $5,000. It’s how I discovered vocal. I did try writing on medium platform it went nowhere. So, I want to see if vocal works out for me. This poem is called after the parade as the work that would win the contest was about how in parades we are bold, seen, & acknowledged. But, after the parade ends then what happens? I dedicated a brick many years ago at my alumni college memorial that says Art going vertical and horizontally each letter spells a word. I decided to go back to college for Art graduated and then I went for my visual artist degree. I am looking forward to expanding on this platform and growing.
We smile and wave
Yet know at the end of the day
Everything fades.
Appreciation
Recognition
Transformation
We are the art we live everyday renewed. Dancing in a tight embrace of never ending light and hues.
Once a year we celebrate it’s our holiday. We are proud and the ones who keep our eyes looking up toward the stars.
We shine, we are loud, we are bright, and we are colorful just like fireworks. Everyone always watches fireworks without any hesitation. It’s our culture, it’s our pride, and it’s our dance of life.
We symbolize love, empathy, power, and grace. We embrace our brothers and sisters without disgrace. Our flags wave in the summer breeze as the sun sets we are prepared for a brand new day. The parade might be over but we go on to sparkle and shine each and every single day. Like rainbows that bring joy after the rain. We always are the ones who embrace the change.
About the Creator
Wendy Drews
I think of the ways I am authenticity true. Most times we are taught by others to stay a silent about our truths. We are told we are too much, too sensitive, or not good enough. Do you know how to love yourself and establish a good life?
Keep reading
More stories from writers in Poets and other communities.
The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wiles3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.