Shunned for her sin
a young figure
rubs her swelling belly
compulsion driven by fear

Tremors from within
stunt her movement
uncertainty paralyzing
her words…

She is unwed,
repulsive to a society
reeking with ineptitude –
righteousness negating action

Unsuspecting, the baby arrives
emits a scratchy cry –
filling her lungs with hope
and anticipation, trusting

Does not know
in her stark nakedness
that her tragedy is set,
life will not embrace and provide

Poverty has marked her
for a life of hardship –
the pious turn their backs
she is, after all, born of sin.

(Image my own)

Could It Be?

Walking away is the only solution
I’ve ever excelled at, and yet
absence does not obliterate that
which dwells within – I can pretend
that I have nothing further to offer,
but life and circumstance require
more of me, a challenge to exhume
the remains of my potential – will
I be up to the task?  There is flattery
in being looked up to, the feeling
that someone needs me, but is that
not akin to temptation – an ego play –
could it be that the knowledge I’ve
acquired has merit only when shared;
that we are all here to do our piece;
that by releasing what I’ve learned
I will find flow, feel in sync with life
again, restore my abilities and reignite
a passion for teaching?  Dare I hope.