Hodder Education, London, features my poem: A Whale Song

A few weeks ago, I received an email from a representative of Hodder Education in London asking for permission to reprint my poem, A Whale Song, which was inspired by my love of whale (in particular, killer whales) and my sadness over their senseless slaughter by fishermen. A Whale Song will be featured in an upcoming educational book for schools. I'm very honored and pleased to have my work presented to students and teachers.

Here's a sneak peek:

Winter Lust

Winter Lust

Winter’s cottony cloak gently drapes the ground,

Slowing Mother Earth’s heart to a sluggish waltz beat,

Cooling her hardened skin, frozen in endless time,

Stunting all growth as if in agonizing defeat.

This icy wrap she wears, it clings so lovingly;

How frigid is Mother Earth, unrelentingly in her claim

That she owns this frozen land and everything within,

And possesses calm reserve despite Winter’s pain.

The snow drifts and icicles form, suspended in time,

The breath and teardrops of Mother Earth’s last stand

Before Winter smothers her final weeping breath

And silent cries spread across the glacial land.

Unyielding of her riches buried far beneath the soil,

Mother Earth sighs, her time will come once more to reign.

In the thaw of springtime, freedom comes full circle,

She emerges victorious…at least ‘til Winter’s lust begins again.

~*~

©2009 Cheryl Kaye Tardif

I am... (poem)

Although I’ve no house to call my home,
I live in the shelter of God’s gracious dome.
I don’t have a house full of food and drink,
But the food I receive makes me think
That though I am homeless, without much in hand,
I am still someone’s child and someone’s friend.

“Hey, get a job!” I’ve heard people say.
But it’s not quite that easy, ‘cause few will pay
Someone like me, with no current home,
Addicted to drugs, no clean clothes of my own.
Would you hire me to work by your side?
If not, then don’t judge me; I do have my pride.

My body is a prison, my spirit’s still free,
I am what I am; can you truly see me?
Don’t see the dirt on my clothes or my hair,
Don’t laugh, don’t sneer and please don’t stare.
The grime of the street has made me this way,
One hot shower can wash this away.

I am husband or wife, father or mother,
I am niece or nephew, or sister or brother.
You could be me, or so could another.
One bad choice can lead to one other.
So next time you see me, hands out in need,
Remember, like you, I breathe and I bleed.

I am one of the homeless, a face on the street,
Look into my eyes; don’t stare at my feet.
I am human like you, I laugh and I cry,
I’ve watched my street friends live and die.
I’ve lost much of what you hold so dear,
But I haven’t lost “me”—I’m still in here.


~*~

©2008 Cheryl Kaye Tardif

Note: I felt inspired to write this today, and it appeared first on Hope Mission's Facebook page. Although I haven't lived on the street, my brother Jason Kaye did. He lived and died on the streets of Edmonton, and he is always on my mind. I posted this poem here, because I hope it will inspire you. ~Cheryl

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