Poems by Kimberly Cunningham

Voicing It

A voice of a song bird
cannot be muted
just because it’s storming.

The song must be sung anyway.

Sometimes perseverance
sits quietly on a branch,
just like that little bird
until it is time to sing
loudly and incessantly
from the top of a tall tree
indicating that it survived
the storm.

Speck of Hope

I was told to seek
and greatness would be found.
Watch for it, wait and see.
They all yelled those commands.

A piece of dust swirled,
and twirled, and whirled,
and it fell onto me.
I tried to brush it off
but it wouldn’t go.
It had attached itself,
it had clung to me.

I wondered where that dust came from,
I yearned to know its origins.
I gazed back up and I cast my glances
to the rays of sun, and way past the stars.
I looked, I stared, I glared.
I sought to have clear visions.

I even waited for more particles
to shower down on me.
But somehow I knew
that will not be.

Lingered there for moments,
and days, and full weeks waiting.
Because I questioned if something
wondrous will happen,
it could not come
under those conditions.
It would not come
if I still had questions.
It had to come on its own terms.

Inside of me,
there was still a yearn,
a query and a desire.

I thought back to when
that speck of dust appeared.
It came as I looked up.
It came
at the recommendation of others.
It came
because they knew it could.

I had no expectations,
and yet
something magnificent
happened
to me.

The tiniest little speck
taught me to have the
greatest amount of hope.
It showed me perseverance.
It showed me how quietly
it can flitter down.

I had to be told to look for it,
but once I saw it
I always knew
it would be there.

Specks of dust are everywhere.

Star Bright

I saw one million stars dance
above the wreckage
How could that be?
Shiny, twinkling, iridescent lights
bending, swaying, and twirling.
It was magnificently beautiful.

Yet, bloody carnage was scattered about,
ugly and grotesque
on the hardened cold dirt bed below.
My eyes burned from the toxicity
but
breathtaking light shows illuminated everything
and I gasped.

Despair and hope collided
then came to settle
in one collective place.
Are you in the glow or the burn?
I cannot focus,
where do I land?

I saw all the stars whirl and swirl
above the wreckage,
and it was so.

About the Poet: 

Kimberly Cunningham has written three published books, “Undefined,” ” Sprinkles on Top,” and “Smooth Rough Edges.” In addition, she has written over 35 pieces of published works. She has work included in “We Will Not Be Silenced,” ” As The World Burns,” Into the Rabbit Hole,” and, “The Brave.”

Kimberly is a special ed preschool teacher residing in central New York with her husband, daughter, and two curious cats.