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 Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


The night has his eyes,
Stolen with the best of intentions,
Meant to make the sun,
Yet it was her eyes they used as the sun.
His eyes were preserved,
To take the glitter out of them,
And use them for the stars.
The moon was their three children's smiles.
Attached as a circle.
The middle,
Her eyes make the sky,
The deep blue sky,
And her good humor and
Warm personality
Became comforting wind.
The first smile's eyes
Became the lush greenery on the earth.
Trees, grass and leaves.
Her attitude and mind became
The rain clouds on a gray day.
The third,
His eyes were the dirt,
The soil that helps us grow.
His moods are what bring the clouds
In and out of our sky.
So, as the earth holds meaning for each family,
So does it with mine.

December 23, 2003

*I so rarely write positive poems about my family, because there are so many fights going on. However, this time, I did something creative. I did this. I don't even know if it is good or bad but then again, when have I ever cared what the readers think. Good or bad, I like it.

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