If I could fly tonight,
To places I’ve never seen,
My arms with the power to witness first hand
great deeds accomplished by woman and man
or worse know suffering,
What would I choose,
soaring above these incredible views,
peering below
my landing, my voice
where do I go,
what is my choice,
Would I plan to see such glorious sites,
As the Seven Wonders of the World by night,
The Taj Mahal, The Northern Lights,
Angel Falls or World Castles by name,
The great cathedrals from London to Spain,
I could take the train from Koblenz to Koln
See the Ancient Ruins in Rome,
Ride a Gondola in Venice today,
but being away, almost gone astrayI
I’d miss what is always real
So I wouldn’t need to fly this far
since what I seek is where you are
You’re the sight I’d choose to see
with you is where I’d want to be
I’d choose you.
The love I know.
hold you close
the tears would flow
we’de share a tea
and our company
we could say a little or a lot
thank you for the lessons taught
memories kept to bring me home
these wings a gift for when I’ve flown,
feeling at peace, all would be right,
this is the flight plan I chart tonight
Poem for Distant Relative: I wrote this for my mother who doesn’t live very close by. We see each other though of course, but I was thinking, if I were a bird tonight, where would I fly to first.
Set your soul free by opening up to yourself first
It’s safe with me, open your heart
Release your need to sing, pour out your life to me
I am near you, don’t be afraid,
For I will listen, I won’t tell
I don’t judge, I won’t yell
I will only hear you
The weight must be unbearable, your soul must need to fly
Can you really carry this alone
It’s much too heavy, release your thoughts,
And I will hear you cry
Your spirit lives inside, it wants to help as well
Like me it knows your anguish
It’s begging you to let it go
It loves you, it is you
Simply shadowed by this secret
For I will listen, I won’t tell
I don’t judge, I won’t yell,
For I will only hear you . . .
I can only hear you . . . since
I am you, yes, I am you
by Barbara Tremblay Cipak
Poem, about Self Truth: I was about 35 years old when I sat down to put pen to paper on this one. I remember it was late at night, maybe around 11:00pm, it was nice and quiet, everyone was in bed. All comfy cozy, under my blanket, sitting in my chair in the living room, I had the urge to write. So with a pen and paper, I started. I wrote lyrics for two songs and a poem that night. This post is that Poem. The subject of the poem pertains to being truthful to yourself first and foremost. In other words, the initial person you should talk out a problem with is yourself. Don’t block the truth from your conscious mind, force yourself to hear your own soul’s truths. Don’t be afraid, because ultimately, (as the old saying goes) “you will be set free”.
My heart it beats to the drum of hope
Life hands out test sheets everyday
I always pass
While I’m walking a foot is stuck out
there I lay flat on my face
So what
I pick myself up
and stick my tongue out to the one who tried
I beat another obstacle
A panicing phone is ringing,
do this do that do it now
was it done yesterday
uhuh, yep, Ok, yes I did it,
thanks for calling
Someone is yelling at me
I listen
“there’s a good person in there somewhere”
What happened?
hmm, they’re backtracking,
Didn’t they know I’m a good person?
That’s what I see, I see good people
by Barbara Tremblay Cipak
I See Good People: A reminder in the form of a poem, of encouragement and hope – to look at life from an optimistic angle. It takes just as much energy to be hopeless as it does to be hopeful. I choose hopeful.
I sit hear crying in the chair of my well painted life,
at the drawing that is yours…
Where are your colors?
My three shades of green sing out peace…
until I see your screaming walls of black
While watching you stare blankly into what was,
I am surrounded by what is,
loss that is not mine
this loss I own,
Your sketch is my torment,
Seeking absolution is my canvas
I paint you
By Barbara Tremblay Cipak, Copyrighted
Poem, Suffering from War: For the victims of war, especially the children.
Stealing a moment,
face arched to the sun,
reflecting upon tasks still left undone,
Whether ten things to do or a hundred and one,
I find golden moments in this garden lesson
My life is on track
and I consistently persist
when I remember I’m not defined by this list
My list of to-do’s
are not only tangible things
such as shopping, cleaning or these poetic writings,
there’s children to nurture,
family to call,
with my disposition mastered and sunny
can be a challenge,
like facing the day,
when for now,
there’s more month than money
When the TV is on,
the story’s not art
the suffering move into my heart,
Without knowing, I begin to question myself
What’s my contribution,
am I doing my full part?
I’ve placed them inside
and increase my soul burden
their faces never dismissed
I watch their journey,
for it’s a lot tougher than mine,
then gracefully add their plight to my list
And so goes my list,
it continues to grow
After-all, we care for those we know and don’t know,
but the garden lesson holds the secret to joy
it’s a simple flower,
a smile,
a mere helping hand,
to remember the love our life kissed
for we define ourself by the garden we plant
not by what’s-to-do on our list. By Barbara Tremblay Cipak, Copyrighted
I Don’t Live in This List – “A Garden Lesson”:
Our duties, our responsibilities, our obligations end up on our physical and mental “to-do list”, and it can be draining. But there is a secret many already know; finding joy in unexpected places. A joy from within, experienced from the core, coming from things that have nothing to do with money, work, or duties. This is the gift we can give ourselves.
Can you see me?
Do you know me?
I’m trying desperately to be heard
In the silence of your nights
I am here
In the panic of your days
I am here
Stop and listen,
just for one precious minute…
Can you feel the warmth of light?
Let’s be still,
not a whisper…shhh,
Now can you hear me??
I am your essence, forever you
Your very being
I know your purpose, your destiny
Know me, I am you,
I am your soul and I am right here
Set me free and I will teach you to fly
by Barbara Tremblay Cipak, Copyrighted
Poem, Soul Searching: Are we so busy that we no longer attempt to remember our deepest passions. The years go by and we tend to lose ourselves in day to day “details”. Strangely enough we even find comfort in the patterns of our life. Serving the needs of others is a very noble thing for us to do, however, losing ourselves in the process isn’t helpful to anyone. “I Am Here” is a short poem reminding us to stop and listen.
Poem, Dedicated to Writers: The inspirational music written by the Bee Gees, along with the tragic and unexpected death of Maurice Gibb has compelled me to dedicate this poem to Maurice, Barry, Robin and their families. You are so incredibly talented and your music sooths our soul. My husband and I love listening to your music, we never get tired of it. Thanks so much for the peace you bring us in a world filled with “to do” lists. Oh, and just a personal observation, I really believe if they play “You Win Again” on the radio today, it would be a number one hit in North America!
I Am A Writer
Not inspired by great people before me
Not bound by words to be graded by this time
I am a writer for all time
Inspired solely by my spirits knowledge
Bound only by sincerity to Self
The gift, though mine, is yours to take
but always remember, mine to give
I am a writer, exposing for your theories
the coldest,warmest,deepest caverns of my being
Fear not and judge me
For I am a writer capable of timeless love
Accepting of all life’s lessons
Measure my greatest pleasure
with all your spirits conviction
Leave mediocrity for those still searching
Take from me what I freely
and without hesitation hand over to you
The priceless gift of a writer
Myself
Willing to Collaborate with Artists - If Interested in Lyrics, Contact Barbara Tremblay Cipak at 416-566-0643 or barbara@drageda.com - Author of Song Lyrics, and Poetry, and creator of related Videos on Drageda.com - Thank you!
