Wed, 13 May 2026 00:43:13 -0700WeeblyFri, 04 Nov 2022 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.christoelmorr.ca/poems-blog/a-little-girls-victorySpeak! a child was alone and alone
She became the smallness in her body
She became the prisoner at home
And the little girl was wounded 
Like an evening sky, familiar
and unfamiliar

But they,
- the “others” -
Kept silent
And when she was wounded like a song
They kept their silence, 
They stayed humble,
And it was said:
“How sweet He finds humbleness!” 
“How sweet He finds silence!”
 
And she sank in silence like a flake
She left her breath behind
And empty she went, into a secret lake


And the little girl grew
And she travelled to nowhere
And her mother’s stars did not see
The dark secret in her hair 
And her father’s arms did not keep her
away from the cold

As her father was kidnapped by the war
A hypocrite war like the war before 

And the little girl grew
A little bit more 
Between one axe 
And another
Behind the Church’s door
 
And yes, she sobbed
Like a riddle that defied all solutions
And lived fortified
In the corner of her studies 
In many sad devotions

But she grew up…
And maybe she resembled to a village
That the war of the south invaded 
And light-up
And when she spoke... they silenced her
In the name of the Lord of fear, immediately, they silenced her
They told her to pray more, in silence
Maybe she did!
But she grew up
 
The little girl was broken
But the little girl healed her wound 
With love that begins at the beginning
That keeps all truth tuned

As the little girl grew up
She slept in the roses 
Lighting up the forest of her heart
And said to the fugue’s art:
I love me
And I love him a sun in which I lose my path 
To find it
I became my Self itself
I won’t hide it
Not anymore

That girl who was here 
Won Like a storm in a deer,
She sank highly into her love
And in the austerity of her voice
A windy ray bloomed 
Despite all the fear

The little girl was wounded
The little girl was broken,
The little girl sobbed,
And 
The little girl,
That same little girl,
Won 
And she spoke the unspoken…

]]>Thu, 20 Oct 2022 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.christoelmorr.ca/poems-blog/the-rose-in-youWhen the birds dry in your eyes
And the quince blows in your heart
listen,
Search for the sleeping child in you
For a woman who left you
When you climbed the stars 
Stepping on the corpse of love
In you

You may have promised her braids:
"I'll be back with something worthy of us"
And you were exchanging your wing for a rock
And your soul for solitude
And you were becoming a question for every stranger:"Would you tell me who I am?"
And they say, "Me."

When the visions turn into stone
And you walk and do not give birth to a dream or be born,
Weep
Until the dew returns and you rejoice
Like love in the beginning of love
when you were touching you
In you]]>