An Eternal Ripple


Voce umana sounds its call.

For with an utterance,

Character is displayed,

Masses are called to service.


Allow the voice to cry out,

With suffering and pain.

Let the voice make the call,

To those in need and longing.


Parole scritte sent into the world.

To prick the souls,

To flutter the heart’s emotions,

To be hidden away in the bosom.


Allow the pen to write of pain,

An aching need so desperate.

Make the pen detail this life,

That others may find comfort.


Send my words beyond these walls,

Out the windows and doors,

Into the streets of the city,

Down barren backwoods paths.


Let them bend the minds of men,

And shape the hearts of women.

My desire before final call,

Is to sound an eternal echo.


As the rock falls into the water,

So I desire my words to be.

Let them break the surface,

To send out an eternal ripple.

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About John White

I've written off and on my entire life. It took years for me to finally take putting words together seriously. Now it's not, nor does it ever feel, like work. Writing daily has become habitual. No day is complete without words having appeared on the page.

Posted on September 9, 2014, in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. Strong, worthwhile writing, John

  2. A nice idea, words like a never-ending ripple. Thanks for following over at the imAgine RooM. Looking forward to reading more of your stuff.

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