Poetry by Marta Moran Bishop

The Dance

We’ll dance among the stars tonight.
Weave webs of shimmering light
Across the clouds our feet will fly
Tripping the light fantastic

Singing our songs of hope and love
Our voices filling the air
Silver notes of glistening sound
Making waves of light and joy.

From star to star we’ll weave our web
Gleaming strands of golden net
Leaving behind a trail of light
For those who’ll join our dance

Often just a grin,
Sometimes it’s a smile.

Then there’s a giggle,
A chuckle or two.
For rainbows are gifts,
Forever a light.

They give us all joy,
And happiness too.

Upon the hill beside the road,
Stood the two little trees side by side.

Over the years they grew as one,
Trunks and branches intertwined.

One hundred years and more they stood,
Limbs locked in a lovers embrace.

Look closely if you want to see,
How long these two have grown as one.

They lost a friend a year ago,
He stood upon the hill near them.

One hundred years and more they stood,
The two who were one and their friend.

Age is showing some limbs dying,
Still they hold each other entwined.

Their leaves still shade us in the spring,
In the fall they turn red and gold.

It’s in the winter you will see,
The hundred years and more they stood.

copyrighted February 2012 Marta Moran Bishop

I do not want to die,
My life barely begun,
Hardship has been my lot,
Trauma and worry too.

My bliss still to be found,
The joy each day to see,
Burdens all left behind,
Not carried all alone.

Fly with the hawk above,
Ride my horse through the woods,
Run with wind in my hair,
Soar the heights yet to come.

Marta Moran-Bishop copyrighted 2011

Lost was clean air and water
The rivers carried the dead
The poor, elderly and young suffered
By the hands of the God of Greed
All mourned the loss of what was.

Those who’s hate and fear
For a time reigned the land
But history will remember
The shining light that once was
Upon the hill.

Before destruction came
When the world still had a chance
When peace was a possibility
If, fear and hate were beaten
And the demigods hadn’t won

I mourn the loss already
Before its completely gone
My heart still hopes
Because, some will fight
For freedom, love and dignity
And what the light upon the hill can be.

If I could be any bird
I’d choose to be a hummingbird
Sapphire tail with gilded crest
Emerald wings and ruby breast

Never landing never grounded
Like other birds who are bounded
Always to walk or glide entwined
By natures choosing for their kind

They never flit or flutter round
Must always walk or fly around
Forever forward or on the ground
Brightly feathered or dully browned

They’re not cloaked in colors of jewels
But held by all of nature’s rules
No nectar of the sweet flower
Grain, seeds, and bugs are their chowder

Marta Moran Bishop copyright 2018

When I Was Not Myself

There is beauty in my soul
And kindness in my heart
A sadness for mistakes I made

When I was not myself

It’s easy to go astray
And lose oneself
When you follow not your spirit
Or the whispers in your head

The desire not to hurt
Or disappoint can overwhelm
The pressure to fit in
The need to belong
Can blind you, so you cannot see

When you are not yourself

I do not seek to judge
Those I once called friend
For I know not their pain
Or what is in their hearts
Nor could I have sought the answers

When I was not myself

I honor all the memories
Of those that I have lost
For even in my anguish
I learned a lot.

To listen to the whispers
The screaming of my spirit
Even when it sees those things I wish weren’t so
I am grateful to those who stayed

When I was in the dark

It can’t have been easy
But you helped me find my way
As I walk toward the light
And listen to my soul
As it takes the splendor in

And I become myself

I’ll remember those days of dark despair
When the world closed in
A few scars will remain upon my heart
From lessons I have learned

When I was not myself

I’ll not judge myself
For those mistakes I made
Nor flog my spirit bloody
But take them as lessons learned

For you cannot go back

As I travel on my path
Through the deep dark woods
Muddy black bogs of loss
As I make my way back
Into the beauty that I am

The darkness and despair
The loneliness and sorrow
Will be a memory of the days

When I was not myself

From the book When I Was Not Myself.