Typing Stages for Teresa allowed me not only to be a part of a wonderful project, but it also gave me the opportunity to be the first to see it come to life. Typing Stages was in itself a benediction, as the poems in it are full of honest confessions---joyful and sorrowful alike. I felt Teresa's pain in "Autumnal Fall and Reflections." Typing them was like gulping boulders, but I felt her joy in "A Note of Thanks" knowing that her cries did not end in desperation. Throughout Stages, Teresa answers her own question "Who is ...
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Typing Stages for Teresa allowed me not only to be a part of a wonderful project, but it also gave me the opportunity to be the first to see it come to life. Typing Stages was in itself a benediction, as the poems in it are full of honest confessions---joyful and sorrowful alike. I felt Teresa's pain in "Autumnal Fall and Reflections." Typing them was like gulping boulders, but I felt her joy in "A Note of Thanks" knowing that her cries did not end in desperation. Throughout Stages, Teresa answers her own question "Who is the real me after all?" She is as God has intended her to be: a "Creative Christian Woman." Her poetry sings of her strength, faith, love, and sincerity. I am glad, through Stages, we have become friends. Caroline Dalisay La poes???a es... como un ser vivo. Respira lento y aprisa, se alimenta de penas y alegr???as; siente el vac???o y la ausencia, sangra como un soldado herido. Habla nuestro idioma y se escribe en dialectos desconocidos. Llora como un condenado a muerte... y s???, tambi???n r???e. R???e a carcajadas de felicidad y a veces sin voluntad como cualquier payaso de circo. La poes???a crece y cambia sobre las hojas de un libro. Se convierte en un hombre fuerte, en nuestro padre ya viejo; en mariposa libre, en el brillo de los ojos de un ni???o ??? en sauce llor???n que apenas est??? aprendiendo a llorar. En melod???as que viajan hacia el amor, hacia el tiempo amargo, hacia la nada y el vac???o. Toca las puertas del alma y remueve recuerdos de encuentros de dos, de guerras al alba, del dolor y la nostalgia de amores que no fueron, de p???jaros perdidos. La poes???a se hace, muere y renace una y otra vez, surge del coraz???n, recorre amaneceres, ciudades lejanas, intocables pa???ses que jam???s hemos visto; vientos y mares de olvidos, en m???sica que dej??? de sonar y canciones que ya no cantan m???s. As??? es la poes???a de Teresa Sewell- apasionada, triste, bella, aventurera como ella misma- viva como un reci???n nacido. Araceli Collazo
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