Under the Ruins

[Lake]

Under the Ruins

Life waits inside us for a spark to be struck.
Life is a new bud atop an old branch.
Life is ceaseless as waves chase seabirds.
Life is that sleeping, plump infant
trapped in the debris from an 8.0-magnitude
earthquake. He sucks in milk and blood
from his mother’s nipples, breathing
in a narrow space, arched by flesh and bones.
It is May, a time of May flowers and Mother’s day.
In the rocking arms of a rescuer, he stares, smiles
around, trying to make out who these strangers are.
Life shines in his curious eyes.



(Changed L1 and L3 from "Life waits inside us like a spark struck from flint." and "Life is ceaseless as streams running towards the sea.")
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the trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry -- Billy Collins

[kino]

we should learn to be strong although life is but suffering (quoting the latin motto "Vita humana est supplicium").

[Lake]

Life is beautiful, unless one's life is hell.
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the trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry -- Billy Collins

[justjust]

very good poem. the first line kind of eludes me. can a spark struck from flint wait?

[Lake]

Thank you justjust for your question.

I have it revised. See how it sounds now.

Thanks.

Lake
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the trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry -- Billy Collins

[宁家珍]

It's a very good poem and I like reading it . I have to learn from you .

[justjust]

[Lake]

Thanks, just, for coming back to it. I see your point, rhetorically. I was thinking to do it a bit differently, with some minor variations.

Thanks again.
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the trouble with poetry is that it encourages the writing of more poetry -- Billy Collins