Poetry

balloon photo

Red Is the Color . . .

by Marie L Tobin
Dedicated to Brendan Tobin with love on his birthday, February 9, 2018

Red is the color of love.
As soon as we saw your sweet-baby face,
Cupid’s arrow struck our hearts.
We looped our strings with yours – our joy, our red
balloon, our little valentine – floating together.
Love warmed us; love helped us rise.

Red is the color of blood.
When you died, sorrow’s arrow
pierced our hearts. We sank,
despairing you’d been torn away.
We still can’t think about how we found you,
how your brain betrayed you, how
you suffered – or we’ll burst.

Red is the color of grief
and the wind of grief is strong.
Do others see the constant tug on our balloons?
Grief’s arrows burn and ache
but must remain. If we pull them out,
we’ll explode,
piling grief on grief.

Red is the color of love.
With our strings wound in a love knot, we stay:
for you, each other, everyone we love,
trying to do good in your name. Some days, we can see
your red balloon floating in the sky –
but know we must stay tethered.

We must live.
We must love.
We must float.

.


Brenda visiting orphanage in Jamaica

Simplicity

by Brendan Tobin

Jamaica, Mustard Seed Orphanage Service Trip – April 2014

The simplest things in life

do not have to be big

they can be a smile

or a laugh

maybe even a tear of joy.

Someone can help

someone else

or give money.

In the moment

it’s the thought

that counts.

Immersed within the Jamaican community

you see diverse

groups of people

Ones who can speak

and others who cannot.

Some might be tied down

while others are free

But when they are with us

They have a smile.

Laughing, smiling, and playing together

Everyone making it better

At the end of the day

and we say good-bye

they come over and give us hugs

not letting go

and always making it last

even in the silence of solitude.

* * *