Poetry Friday ~ Reflections of Abuse

  

It's Poetry Friday, and I am continuing to embrace the challenge of sharing something poetry each week.  This week's round-up is hosted by Jone at Check It Out.  So be sure and check out all the poetry goodness.

For the first time, I participated in Michelle Barnes' Monthly Challenge at Today's Little Ditty.  To be honest, I was nervous about posting on that Padlet.  Maybe it was because I was leaning out of the comfort zone of my own blog or comparing my own writing to the caliber of writing from the real poets who participate.  I am just the new kid playing on their playground.  But...I did it!

I am unsure of how this poem arrived in its published form.  It started out being about a shy little girl wanting to share a gift with the world, but her shyness led to her inability to do that.  Shyness was the emotion I wanted to personify.  

Somehow, it turned into a poem about a woman suffering from the effects of abuse, and submissiveness is what I personified. Both emotions had downward glances and both were avoiding something, but for extremely different reasons.

I typically do not write about dark topics such as this, and I certainly did not write this from a personal experience.  

But this is the journey of my words this week.

Measuring Time

Thank you Two Writing Teachers for creating this space for me to share my corner of the world.

Last night I finished reading Hour of the Bees by Lindsay Eagar.  This story is about the relationship between a young girl named Carol and her grandfather who has dementia. This book is beautifully written, and I strongly recommend it. 

An idea threaded throughout the story was how we measure time.  Serge, the grandfather measures it by the work he does with the sheep on his ranch.  Carol starts to measure it in many other ways.  This idea of measuring time along with my one little word, intent, is the inspiration behind this poem.

How do you measure time?

Do you measure time

from sunrise to sunset,

admiring God's paintbrush

as he blesses us with another day?

Do you measure time

by the passage of the seasons,

observing the signs of spring,

peeking from under the blankets of winter,

giving us signs of hope and renewal?

Do you measure time 

through life changes

as you watch young ones 

in the blink of an eye 
grow into young adults?

Do you measure time
when loved ones pass,

leaving a new generation

to carry on their legacy?

Or do you measure time 

with each breath you take,

intently inhaling and exhaling, 

caressing each moment 
of precious life?

Standing at the Crossroads - Free Verse

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating a place to share our Slice of Life.  Read more slices or add you own here.

April is National Poetry Month, and I am celebrating with many other bloggers by writing and sharing poetry.  Please check out the hashtag #digipoetry on Twitter to find more poems written by  writers in our blogging community.  Please consider joining us.  Write when you can, share when you write.  It is that simple.

I have been a mother for 22 years and these years have been full of joy and pride.  We have been blessed as parents because our children have caused us very few problems.  We are extremely lucky and we give thanks every day.

I believe that my role as a mother will soon be stretched in ways I am not looking forward too.  Becoming an adult is not an easy thing to do in our world today, especially when our plans and goals are not the same as our children's. 

Standing at the Crossroads

while he is

standing at the crossroads 

his mother

watching from behind

with a heavy heart

...worries

knowing that reality is

clashing with his dreams

different paths

different directions

hard choices 
hard decisions

his mother 
watching from behind
with a heavy heart

...prays

while he is 

standing at the crossroads