A Poem…


A Calling


I remember the pain in my chest when

Discovering poems that felt I had written them

A singular awakening

Plenty of solitude and mystery

Amelia felt the same

That day when the little red plane

Pirouetting in circles swished by her

And whispered in her ear

That she had the gift

It was impossible to look back

She jumped on that rollercoaster

Embarking on a mission

She needed to do what she had

Come to do

She had a calling

I have come to know her late in life

Read of her many triumphs and

Unfortunate death too early

On a morning about 8:45 am

When the clouds wrapped themselves

Around her

Never to be heard of again.

I can’t look back

Poetry’s long and winding road lies ahead

I am just an instrument

A voice to carry its message

Amelia felt the same

She flew off into the unknown

Following the instructions that where

Whispered to her

Will we find each other one day?

Will poetry redeem us?



Manuel Adrian Lopez

(This poem belongs to “Our Poetic Tribute to Amelia Earhart”, permanently on display at Amelia Earhart Birthplace Museum)

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