(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson, this poem edited. Image my own)
(Hi all. This post was pre-scheduled. I have turned off comments. We are currently coming to terms with the loss of a close family member. Will visit when I can, but likely be off for a bit.)
Child of mine, what rage is this that sets you against a younger brother?
What discontent stirs so deeply within that you would lash out at me, your mother?
Let us sit a moment, and let me, with tenderness, listen, for your anger masks pain, and I am not so far removed from childhood to recognize that tone.
If I have wronged you, speak; I need to hear it. If peers are pressuring, or bullying, or you feel betrayed, lay it here in my hands, and I will comfort you, and offer what wisdom I have.
Your well-being is sacred to me; let me hold you – you’re not too old – linger here in my embrace until the tears come, and the storm passes; I will hear your fears, frustrations, and disappointments, and together we will figure it out.
Child of mine, I am here for you, no matter the reason; your pain is my pain, talk to me; I am listening.
(This poem first appeared Dec, 2019. Image my own)
I wake before dawn, drive through blinding snowstorms, if lost, alter course – without faltering – even set out on foot when driving becomes impossible, navigating treacherous snow and ice, for you
So you can get where you need to be So you can succeed I risk it all for you
I keep you by my side so that you will be safe so that I can ensure your arrival
But, I grow weary, and my body won’t go on, and all I ask for is that we rest awhile, so that I can catch my breath
And in that instance, you are gone – no hesitation in your step, no looking back – and when you finally stop to wait for me it is too late…
A barrier has grown between us: like an eight-foot, chain-link fence separating me from protecting you
And you look at me with that glare of exasperation that says: “I should have done it on my own.”
Wait! Wait, I say. This wall may seem insurmountable but I can do it. I can do it; give me time. I’ll just climb to the top. It’ll be easy; you’ll see!
Don’t walk away! Give me one more chance to prove my love. I do it all for you.
(Martyr’s Lament first appeared here in November, 2014. This version is a rewrite. Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest 