Not as stone remembers rain
but as skin remembers fire,
the way a name once spoken can still bruise the air
History is not a museum with clean glass,
it breathes, it waits,
it hums in the wires above our streets
and in the silence after a door shuts too hard
Hands have built hospitals and cages,
the same hands,
fingers that can cradle a child
or sign a list that turns people into numbers
Do not look away,
forgetting is a luxury paid for by the broken
memory is the candle we keep lit
even when the room wants darkness
We remember the trains that did not ask questions,
the ships that mistook profit for prayer,
the borders drawn like scars
across living, speaking hearts
This is not about guilt alone,
it is about vigilance,
about love standing guard through the night
with tired eyes and an unyielding spine
Because the past is patient,
it will repeat itself softly at first,
a joke, a shrug, a rule,
until cruelty feels normal and silence feels safe
So we remember, loudly and tenderly,
we say the names, we tell the stories,
we teach our children that dignity is not divisible
and humanity is not a trend
Memory is an act of hope,
a refusal to let tomorrow be built
with the same old knives
We remember,
so that kindness stays awake
and the world, bruised but breathing,
gets another chance to choose better
JH
Tag Archives: poetry
We must remember
No Right No Left
There should not be a left
or a right
Only a circle
where we sit close enough
to feel each other breathe
Politics learned the language of corners
sharp words
pointing fingers
maps drawn with rulers instead of hands
But the heart has no party
it votes every morning
for warmth
for safety
for the simple miracle of being seen
A border is just a sentence
written by fear
it says stop
it says yours not mine
it forgets the grammar of kindness
We are made of shared weather
shared grief
shared laughter spilling over pavements
like rain that refuses to choose a country
Imagine power that listens
laws that kneel to humanity
flags lowered just enough
to wrap the cold
Respect is not radical
Care is not naïve
They are ancient
older than slogans
older than walls
There should not be a left
or a right
only forward
together
hands open
voices softer
eyes brave enough to recognise themselves
in everyone else
A future where we do not win over each other
but with each other
where the loudest statement
is how gently
we choose to live
JH
Choose a path
Choose the path that lets your spirit breathe,
Stand with your friends where honesty is kind,
What serves your heart will gently serve them too,
In caring for yourself, you leave light behind.
JH
New year
In 2025, the world rattled like loose change in a storm
Voices clashed, fears flared, hearts forgot their shared warm form
Yet from the noise grew listening, slow hands learning grace
Till chaos bent toward peace, and kindness found its place.
JH
****
Em 2025 o mundo tilintou como moedas soltas na tempestade
Vozes chocaram, medos arderam, corações esqueceram a sua humanidade
Mas do ruído nasceu a escuta, mãos lentas a aprender a graça
Até que o caos se curvou à paz e a bondade encontrou o seu espaço.
JH
Winters Grasp
The long night settles like a velvet cloak
Quiet stars whisper to the sleeping earth
The frost paints silver on every rooftop
And the moon glows with tender rebirth
Our breath becomes prayer in the crystal air
Soft clouds drifting from our waiting lips
Old stories rise where the shadows gather
And time slows to the beat of winter’s heart
In the hush we feel a stirring of hope
A shy promise beneath the frozen field
The dark holds the seed of light within it
Bright treasure hidden but soon revealed
So we lift our gaze to the patient heavens
And welcome the dawn that follows the night
For even the coldest hour of winter
Holds the first warm note of returning light
JH
Now
I stand in this breath
as if it were a soft doorway
opening to the wild hush of everything.
The world leans in
holding its cup of warm light
and I drink it slowly.
Time forgets its hurry
and becomes a friendly stray
curling at my feet.
For a moment
there is no before
no after
only this
bright bead on the string of living.
JH
In Quiet Fields
In quiet fields where soft winds roam, we stand
And feel the breath of those who marched before.
Their names drift through the grass like distant sand
And settle in our hearts forevermore.
We promise them our memory will stay
As still as dawn that trembles into day.
The poppies rise in gentle crimson light,
Their petals catch the turning of the sun.
They glow as if they gathered up the night
Then traded it for hope when morning won.
So when their red blooms stir beneath the sky,
We look, we breathe, we remember why.
JH
Honesty
Soft truth in the air
Voices clear as morning bells
Hearts open like dawn
Eyes meet without shade
Words fall pure as spring water
Trust blooms in still light
JH
How Can You Sit and Be Silent?
How can you sit and be silent,
while children fade from the sky?
Do your lips not burn with the question
how long, how long, and why?
A man builds thrones from his lying tongue,
and truth is left to die.
Your silence is a shadow’s song
and even shadows cry.
JH
Autumn is here
The air grows cool with whispers low
As leaves drift down in a golden flow
The trees wear crowns of russet and flame
Each day arrives yet never the same
A hush of smoke curls from distant fires
The dusk draws near with tender desires
Crisp apples gleam in the orchard light
And owls awaken to sing through the night
The earth now rests in a slower song
The season knows where hearts belong
In fields of bronze and skies of grey
Autumn invites us to linger and stay
JH
Julan62 