A Journey of Remembering What Is Too Easy to Forget. {poetry}
{source}
I arrived in early morning.
A new dawn for my mother whose name is Dawn.
And like all mothers before her and since,
I am certain my arrival was both her end and also
Her beginning.
I was all that nature is.
It moved through me like the mighty wind through the trees,
And also like the gentle breeze that barely finds you on a hot summer’s day.
I was the sunshine and the storm,
The dewdrops lingering on morning grasses
And also the vast and volatile oceans.
I came the way change does,
Unpredictable, uncontrollable, unwavering in its own unique expression
And, even when desired, so very odd and uncomfortable to experience.
I sprang from this earth through my mother and she through hers
And so on and so on to the very beginning
And now my daughters have sprung through me,
Sovereign and wild like our shared mother,
Mine, but never truly so.
Age is a blessing, more so with each new year
I have lived many lives rolled into this one
A girl whose voice was too loud
And whose words were too sharp
Who longed for the love she could not offer herself
A woman and mother born together with the first child I was sworn to protect
And to nurture and to love
When I had never learned how to do these great things before her.
So we have learned together.
My first, my second and now even my third.
And it took letting go, falling apart,
Over and over and over again
To craft and create this life that I love.
It was not one single moment,
Not one notable experience,
But an evolution of deaths and rebirths throughout every one
Parts of me dying as new parts were born,
So perpetual and fluid as to almost go unnoticed
Except through the beauty and grace of my grief.
And only now can I sit still and content
That what I do, what I say, who I am,
Is enough
Just as it always was.
My corners have rounded and my edges are much less sharp
And I have learned that even when this could not be said about me,
I was still worthy and valid and deserving of love
Just as much as I am now that it can be.
My journey, it seems, has been one of self-love.
And I am grateful for a life filled with tiny miracles that have strung together
To create the fortified quilt that wraps itself around me and reminds me
That I am loved,
And that a person who is filled with love,
Becomes love itself.
***
Sheryle Blasko has been writing her whole life. From poems and opinions, to facts and fictions, she explores her passion for words in all their forms. She is a full-time working mother, a crazy cat-lover and a steadfast student of life. Her mission and mantra is to love and to uncover all the barriers she’s built that keep her from doing so, telling her stories as they come through her to be told. Her deepest desire is to connect with others in deep and meaningful ways while she’s here.
***
{Join us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest}
Comments
Latest posts by Rebelle Society (see all)
- Cemetery of Tears. - April 24, 2024
- My Identity Journey: What’s in a Name? - April 24, 2024
- Cyprus: A Magic Place That Feels Like Home. - April 24, 2024