Poems by Alora M. Knight

What does it take to be a volunteer?
Must you travel afar, or is there someplace near
Where there is a need that is evident--
Where someone would think you were heaven sent

For giving them just a little of your time?
A cheerful smile does not cost a dime.
Or maybe, they need a ride somewhere
But there's no one to call on that seems to care.

Some people find it a difficult task
Being handicapped and having to ask
For help in doing the simplest things.
You can't imagine the joy that it brings

To know someone understands what they need--
A trip to the store or a new book to read.
Someone who doesn't make them feel useless and old.
Love and respect  are more precious than gold.

Now I know that this sounds like the same old story.
Still, I'd like you to take a good inventory
Of the things that you could easily do,
For someday the one who needs help may be you.

What will it take to free this mind,
Imprisoned long in apathy,
Now reduced to mundane thoughts
That stultify activity?

What words might somehow trickle up
Through dormant webs of talent,
Releasing from the tangled depths,
A joy once prevalent?

I stand and peer outside my cave,
Security behind me.
Am I afraid to take the chance
Success might someday find me?

Can I withstand the pounding waves
That new ideas foment?
Or shall I once again retreat,
In dullness be content?

Time laughs as I now hesitate.
It says, "Can I keep waiting?
Afraid to leave my placid nest,
Just stay there still debating?"

No! Not when new horizons
Are reaching out to find me.
The glove is thrown, the die is cast.
I close the door behind me.

I was in a room the other day
Where seeds were being planted.
I could only hope and pray
Their growth would not be granted.

For many prejudicial words
Were the seeds so often scattered.
Though none were said in malice,
Just their use was all that mattered.

Most people there would be surprised
If told they were a bigot.
Still, two small children playing near
Heard words they'd not forget.

Deep into their consciousness
Contempt would start to grow
For those who differed from themselves
Because someone had deemed it so

The most fertile soil in all the world
Is in little children's minds--
Absorbing and retaining
Messages of different kinds.

How wonderful this world could be
If every one took care
To plant only seeds of kindness,
Then love could blossom everywhere.

So try hard to remember
That every word you say
Can make a difference in a child
As he goes along life's way.