The Wasp with One Broken Wing

and other original poems

This is a collection of a few poems I’ve written over the past year. Let me know which one you like best!

---

The Wasp with One Broken Wing

I saw a wasp with one broken wing.
It crawled on the ground, and then it would fling
Itself to the sky in an attempt to take flight
Only to fall, try as it might.

With each failed launch, I started to think,
“This wasp is me,” and guess at the link.
What is the metaphor, the lesson to learn?
What is the moral from this wasp I discern?

Perhaps it’s my spirit, yearning to soar,
Shackled by failures, beaten and sore.
The power it carries in its body to sting
Made harmless simply by one broken wing.

Or maybe it’s tenacity, the refusal to quit.
This insect can teach me the meaning of grit.
No matter how hard it falls to the ground,
It tries, tries again in stubborn rebound.

But the longer I watched the one-winged wasp,
The more the sensation of wonder I lost.
Instead I observed the sounds and the sights
Of the bug’s doomed attempts of flight after flight.

It flew up with a buzz, and it seemed it might work,
But it crashed to the pavement with a smack that must hurt.
Did it operate on instinct, or could it feel fear?
Could it feel the approach of death drawing near?

I considered the ways I might help it best.
To mercifully squash, or carry to rest?
In the end, I did nothing but watch it in vain,
Praying that wasps couldn’t feel pain.

Was it arrogant or gauche to misuse this bug’s life
As metaphor for myself in a literary device?
Perhaps even this poem shouldn’t be about me,
It should be about a poor wasp with one broken wing.

---

Phantoms

He picks flowers, pressed between pages without being smelled

Takes pictures, squinting through the lens at his subjects

He seeks memories, collects phantoms instead

Tomorrow robs him of today

Postponement, delay, inevitable regret

How soon will dry petals and still photos reveal the loss of more than they can preserve?

Pluck and press, snap and save

Phantoms, phantoms all

---

Reminder in Silver

“Take up your cross”
“Go and sin no more”
A silver reminder hangs around my neck
It grows heavier with every failure
I do not know which of us is more disappointed
His wisdom is muffled, a voice underwater
I hear, but I do not listen
I know, but I do not practice
I am distant, but He is still near
His mercies are renewed every day
Thank God for that.

---