Isaiah 6:8

8 Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

Monday, February 16, 2009

I Am

I was the not always only child,

the lonely child,

the child with large, pain-racked eyes,

every mothers dream child,

never a bother,

never seen or heard,

"I am sorry - it was all my fault,"

I screamed our within myself.

I was the child with Shirley Temple's curls,

the color of sunlight,

blue-gray eyes that looked for answers,

yet found none,

starched dresses in blues,

whites, lavenders, or greens,

the pretty one,

the hurting one,

my friends took care of me for a while,

I was the fragile one,

and slowly I healed...

or so everyone thought.

The fragility turned into a bitter hardness,

withdrawing into my shell,

I told the world to go to hell,

my parents were confused,

but let me fight my own

inner teenage wars...alone.

I wanted to escape and run off to

Paris, England, Scotland,

but I ended up here....

here with you and your children.

Then I was the wife, the mom,

the daughter.

Where was the I?

I searched for myself everywhere

and finally,

entered the halls of knowledge,

there I was, waiting patiently

I grew like bluebonnets

along a Texas highway.

I discovered that even though I was

a wife, a mother, a daughter,

I was someone in my own right...

myself, me.

Then I sat down

with paper and pen

The pains escaped from within my heart

and mind through my fingers,

I looked down and found myself.....



Leigh said...

I love that!

Ms. Marty said...

How beautiful. Have you always liked to write. My dream at one time in my life was to a journalist. I still like to dabble in it, but not as much as I did when I worked at the school. I always got the end of the year job of writing the sixth graders class history. That wasn't too bad since I had been there with them from day one.

Do we keep getting more and more alike or what?

babyrocasmama said...

Beautiful poem! Good Job!