ELLI LAGIOU

 

 

Traces Of Kindness

 

The strongest poems

are the ones not spoken in words.

 

I had nothing —

and yet, I gave.

A glance,

a silence that wrapped the other

like shelter.

 

A word,

like when we say “come,”

without a question mark —

with light.

 

The trees know it:

kindness

makes no sound.

It blooms.

 

It holds no banners,

doesn’t shout;

it opens its palm

and leaves a piece of bread

on the windowsill of the day.

 

An old man with eyes that drip,

a mother who saves with her singing,

a child who doesn’t ask “why” —

these are the poets.

 

My inside is shouting,

without a cry.

Come, take an embrace —

like refuge.

 

My gaze flies far,

to where children ache

and hunger.

 

“Poets do nothing,”

someone will say.

But tears came to my eyes —

and maybe they

are my truth:

a voice

that I don't know

if anyone will hear...

 

What is saved,

is saved silently.

 

Sensitivity

 

In the spiritual desert,

who will recognize sensitivity,

melancholic creation?

 

With anchors dragging at her feet,

lost among the yellowed

leaves of passing years,

seeking a vulnerable path to cross —

she steps on thorns.

 

Simply, like in a seashell,

gently rustles the wave

carried

by the breeze

of sensitivity.

(Eλλη Λαγιου)

 

ELLI LAGIOU

 

ELLI LAGIOU is a poet who writes with sensitivity and inner strength. She has published two poetry collections: Breath of the Soul and Shades of Emotions. Her bilingual poetry book The Silence of Invisible Endurance is currently in press. She lives and works in Patras, Greece.