Beginning: A Poem for 2021

To begin is to hear

the crunch of sneakers against morning dew pavement

to spread good like misty perfume and

carry joy as an anchor and paddle

a moment is the sum of action and intention

where our hearts rest, is where we will wake up

place a few alarm clocks within the boxes on your calender

this way of living needs a tune up

to change is to rip out and regrow

deep roots are chains

a new beginning is the lines on our fingertips

always there if we look close enough.

-n.J.bellacicco

@njb.poetry

Sunday

I was born a Sunday man

with a Church bell in my soul

and a steeple coming from my chest

a journey to God’s house in each step

my voice drowned by angel’s choir

I remember the way I used to be

before taking part in His Supper

before allowing myself

to rest easy in the pew

I was a shaky man

a child tossed by the tide

a kite thrashed by the wind

It took time for the ink of the Book

to tattoo itself within my mind

to bury itself into the marrow of my actions

Sometimes I find myself hit by the tide

with my face dragging along the shore

shrapnel of shells causing me to bleed out

a bit of the Sunday man

But I am unafraid

I am not timid anymore

Because I was told not to be

And all humility rests in obedience

So as the people flood in

to praise God for all that is

I give God who I am

For He will make me a Sunday man.

-nJb