Biały wiersz

                                            Mamo

                                                              Mówiłaś mi mamo:

                                                              - Proś Boga

                                                              O lepszy świat.

                                                              O zdrowie.

                                                              Szczęście.

                                                              Miłość.

                                                              O pokój...

                                                              O wszystko.

                                                         

                                                              Prosiłem.

                                                              Błagałem.

                                                              Modliłem się

                                                              Do Boga,

                                                              Matki Boskiej,

                                                              Wszystkich Świętych.

                                                           

                                                              Gorąco.

                                                              Żarliwie.

                                                              Długo.

                                                              Przez całe życie.

                                                              Za krótko.

                                                              Na nic.

                                                           

                                                             Czas jak sęp

                                                              Życie szarpał.

                                                              Chorobą.

                                                              Nienawiścią.

                                                              Obłudą.

                                                              Nieszczęściem.

                                                          

                                                             Gdybym miał życie

                                                              Po życiu,

                                                              Modliłbym się

                                                              Raz jeszcze.

                                                              Błagałbym

                                                              O lepszy świat

                                                           

                                                              Kochana mamo!

                                                              - Gdzie jest

                                                              Ten lepszy świat?

                                                              - Czy nam

                                                              Daje go Bóg?

           Bo piekło.

           Piekło na ziemi

                                                              Tworzymy sami.

                                                                   

                                                                         Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                             !9.10. 2006r.

                                                    

                                                                

                                                                    Liść

                                                                      

                                                                       Rodzi się

                                                                       Czysty.

                                                                       Niewinny.

                                                                       Radosny.

                                                                       Jak dziecię

                                                                       Z łona matki.

                                                                      

                                                                       Spogląda  

                                                                       Na gwiazdy.

                                                                       Obłoki.

                                                                       Ziemię.  

                                                                       Jak Anioł

                                                                       Z balkonu nieba.

                                                                      

                                                                       Zachwyca się

                                                                       Barwą.

                                                                       Światłem.

                                                                       Cieniem.

                                                                       Jak malarz

                                                                       W galerii świata.

                                                                       

                                                                       Tęskni 

                                                                       Za słońcem.

                                                                       Deszczem.

                                                                       Rosą.  

                                                                       Jak miłość

                                                                       Za pocałunkiem

                                                                       Przemija

                                                                       Szybko.

                                                                       Nieubłaganie.

                                                                       Bezpowrotnie.

                                                                       Jak czas

                                                                       I młodość.

                                                    

                                                                       Znika

                                                                       Cicho.

                                                                       Na zawsze.

                                                                       Na wieczność.

                                                                       Jak

                                                                       Nasze życie.

                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                              Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                              22.10.2006r.

                                                                      

                                                          

                                                                 Las

                                                                   

                                                      Sztab.

                                                                   Pomników  przyrody.

                                                                   Dębów.

                                                                   Buków.

                                                                   Lip...

                                                                   Czuwa.

                                                                   Nad środowiskiem.

                                                                   Noc.

                                                                   Dzień.

                                                                   Wiecznie.

                                                                   .

                                                       

                                                                   W zielonych mundurach.

                                                                   Oddział.

                                                                   Pododdział.

                                                                   Wydzielenie...

                                                                   Sosen.

                                                                   Świerków.

                                                                   Brzóz...

                                                                 

                                                                   Niestrudzenie.

                                                                   Bez wytchnienia.

                                                                   Toczy bój.

                                                                   Z siarką.

                                                                   Freonem.

                                                                   Ultrafioletem...

                                                                   O tlen.

                                                                   Ozon.

                                                                   Czyste.

                                                                   Zdrowe. 

                                                                   Powietrze.

                                                                

                                                                   Armie drzew

                                                                   W milczeniu.

                                                                   Bez huku dział.  

                                                                   Gromkich rozkazów.

                                                                   Chronią życie.

                                                                   Chronią człowieka.

                                                                  

                                                                   - A człowiek?

                                                                   Człowiek

                                                                   Poprawia Stwórcę.

                                                                   Zmienia świat.     

                                                                   Wycina drzewa.

                                                                   Karczuje lasy.

                                                                   Niszczy puszcze.

                                                                   Uśmierca

                                                                   Sam

                                                                   Siebie.

 

                                                                              Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                                   26.10.2006r.

                                                         

                                                                       Cierpienie

                                                                       Rozpacz

                                                                       Piołunem 

                                                                       Goryczy,  

                                                                       Napełnia

                                                                       Czarę

                                                                       Sumienia.

                                                                     

                                                                      Czernią 

                                                                       Zadręcza 

                                                                       Duszę                                                                                           

                                                                       Pogrąża

                                                                       Zmysły

                                                                       W otchłani

                                                                       Smutku.

                                                                      

                                                                       Smutek

                                                                       Żalem  

                                                                       Zagląda

                                                                       W okna

                                                                       Uczuć.

                                                                    

                                                                      Wyciska

                                                                       Łzy.

                                                                       Napawa

                                                                       Serce

                                                                       Cierpieniem.

                                                                      

                                                                       Cierpienie

                                                                       Błądzi

                                                                       Po

                                                                       Bezdrożach

                                                                       Myśli.

                                                                    

                                                                       Pokorą

                                                                       Rozgrzesza  

                                                                       Sumienie.

                                                                       Uczy

                                                                       Nas 

                                                                       Współczucia.         

                                                                      

                                                                                   Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                                     27.10.2006r.

 

                                                         

                                                                    Jesień

                                                                   Jesień gamą kolorów

                                                                   Raduje wzrok.

                                                                   Błękitem nieba

                                                                   Oczyszcza duszę.

                                                                   Ciszą poranka

                                                                   Koi serce.

                                                                   Kropelką rosy

                                                                   Upaja zmysły.

                                                                   Dywanem liści

                                                                   Wycisza uczucia.

                                                                   Kluczem żurawi

                                                                   Zamyka bramę Raju.

                                                                   

                                                                               Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                                      30.10.2006r.

                                                                    

                                                                 

                                                            

                                                               

                                                               Pośpiech

                                                            

                                                                               Naglony

                                                                 Czasem.

                                                                 Myślą.

                                                                 Życiem.

                                                                 Śpieszę się.

                                                                 Pędzę.

                                                                 Gnam

                                                                 Coraz

                                                                 Szybciej.

                                                                 - Gdzie?

                                                                 - Dokąd? 

                                                                 - Po co?

                                                                 W pośpiechu

                                                                 Depczę

                                                                 Świat.

                                                                 Ład.

                                                                 Porządek.

                                                                 Wątpliwość.

                                                                 Rozwagę.

                                                                 I

                                                                 Własne 

                                                                 Życie.

                                                                 Minuta

                                                                 Wciąż

                                                                 Ma 

                                                                 Sześćdziesiąt

                                                                 Sekund.

                                                                 Ja

                                                                 Gonię.

                                                                 Pędzę.

                                                                 Ścigam się

                                                                 Z

                                                                 Czasem...

                                                                

                                                                 Minuta

                                                                 Wciąż

                                                                 Ma             

                                                                 Sześćdziesiąt

                                                                 Sekund...

                                                                

                                                                          Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                                      04.11.2006r.

                                         

                                          Człowieczy los                                                      

                                                           

                                                                       Miasto.

                                                                 Tysiące domów.

                                                                 Miliony ludzi.

                                                                 Cztery ściany.

                                                                

                                                                 Samotny człowiek.

                                                                 Sam. Sam jeden.

                                                                 Sam jak palec.

                                                                 Jak kołek. Jak świeczka.

                                                                 Jak...

                                                                 Wie On.

                                                                 Wie tylko On.

                                                             

                                                                 Pustelnik

                                                                 Dwudziestego pierwszego wieku.

                                                                 Patrzy w sufit.

                                                                 Ma smutne oczy.

                                                                 Takie przegrane.

                                                                 Milczy.

                                                              

                                                                 Przez

                                                                 Dwadzieścia lat.

                                                                 Z przerwami

                                                                 Chodzi

                                                                 Na spotkania z rodziną... 

                                                                 Z lepszego świata.

                                                              

                                                                 Matka. Żona. Dzieci.

                                                                 Wracają w blasku zniczy.

                                                                 Grobową ciszą.

                                                               

                                                                 Łzy. Smutek.

                                                                 Żal. Pustka.

                                                                 On modli się.

                                                                 Żyje.

                                                                 Żyje już sto lat.

                                                                 To 

                                                                 Długo?

                                                                 Czy krótko?

                                                                 To

                                                                 Nagroda?

                                                                 Kara?

                                                                 Tego nie wie nikt?

                                                                 Tajemnica.

                                                                 Tajemnica życia.

                                                                

                                                                                      Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                                            12.11.2006r.

                                                               

                                                    

                                                              

                                                       

                                                              Refleksja

                                                                           

                                                                Bóg   

                                                                Duszą

                                                                Ożywia ciało.

                                                                Rozum. Zmysły. Sumienie.

                                                              

                                                                Daje 

                                                                Młodość.

                                                                Miłość. Szczęście. Nadzieję.

                                                              

                                                                Kusi

                                                                Grzechem.

                                                                Bogactwem. Rozkoszą. Zawiścią.

                                                              

                                                                Karze

                                                                Starością.

                                                                Chorobą. Bólem. Cierpieniem.

                                                           

                                                               Wytycza

                                                                Drogę

                                                                Świętą. Cierniową. Krzyżową.

                                                              

                                                                Chowa na wieczność.

                                                                Ciało w ziemi.

                                                                Duszę w Niebie.

                                                               

                                                                Po? Co?

                                                                Dlaczego?

                                                         

                                                                            Władysław Dzięgała

                                                                               25.11.2006r.