Once and Now

Credit: acelebrationofwomen.org

Once cowering, a wallflower at a junior high dance

Now prancing, a thoroughbred fresh from a sweet victory lap

Once previewed and reviewed through the warped lens of  snide criticism

Now judged in the reflection of the mirror born of her own making

Once held back by the selfish needs of another

Now setting her own pace, advancing audaciously to meet her own desires

Out of the shadows

Into the light…

 

Day 18. Started the first two line this morning and got a bit stuck. Then I read Mark’s post over at Maleko’s Art.  His piece was all I needed to help me finish.

This is once again dedicated to all of you experiencing any form of abuse or working your way out of the situation. Man, woman, child. It doesn’t matter. You deserve your own life.

 

Ever-Changing Groove

Credit: udomag.com

Moving in forward motion

Aware of time passing

Living in a continuum of small moments

A flow unfolding

Releasing cascading energy

The past perfectly placed

              Purged

Tapping on my shoulder

               No more

Never whispering in my ear

                 Or 

Causing my stomach to lurch

                 And

My heart to palpitate

Approaching future is on the edge of palpable

Controls in the hands of the unknown

 

 

Day 18.  The inspiration for this one came from Suzanne over at Arts and Fiction (http://artifactsandfictions.com) Check out her post:

                        Seeking wisdom

 

Self-Savior

Credit: www.bwss.org

In this season of renewal and reawakening can you transform yourself?

Can you peel back those layers that cover and cloak you?

Can you abandon your hibernation

and rouse yourself from winter’s slumber?

Can you escape from your own darkness

and fill the hole in your soul? 

Or will you let those layers weigh you down?

Will you face the ground carrying burdens

or cast off your afflictions and face the sun?

Will you be clearminded and level-headed? 

Or will practice continued insanity?

Repeating and Repeating and Repeating

and expecting a different result?

Or will YOU be the creator of your own deliverance?

 

Day 15.  This came from a place I haven’t tapped into in a while. A good sign. This is for Suzy Q and others who may need encouragement.

Skin to Skin

 

Credit: en.wikipedia.org

When he first held her she was all skin and bones

Rail thin

Emaciated

Drawn looking with hollowed cheeks

He held her gently for fear she might break

She seemed as delicate as bone china

Seeds of romance were planted

Enriched in the soil born from gracious tending

Seedlings took root

Then were transplanted

Growing stronger with every lustful union

He wrapped her in white downy covers

Cocooning her and feeding her with the sweetness of his love

She began to bloom

A lustrous buttercup flower

Rounder

Displaying curves and small handfuls of flesh

She’s bursting

A luscious garden

Born again

Sown from seeds of love

 

Day 11. Inspired by one word: fleshy

Invisible Woman

Credit: vi.sualize.us

Kept out of sight

Shielded and veiled

Would the taste of sweet freedom ever prevail?

Used for another’s purpose and pleasure

She learned to keep secret her own inner treasure

No voice of her own

Living in fear of his twisted ire

She learned to tamp down her simmering fire

No voice of her own

Her movements dissected and judged

Her body reflected his ideal

Her intellect she learned to conceal

No voice of her own

‘Til one day she burst forth

A near nuclear force

Her voice shouted out

Now in plain sight

Unshielded and Unveiled

Her voice shouted out

Her treasure no longer hidden

No need to do his unending bidding

Her voice shouted out

Her world was on fire

No longer stuck in the muck and the mire

Her voice shouted out

The whole world could hear

No Fear! No Fear!  No Fear!

 

 

Before I Go

Credit: www.wallallies.com

My oldest asked me to write an Easter story just as the April poetry challenge got underway. I reminded him that I did write one two years ago (Traditional Non-Traditions , a worthy read for background).  I guess he wanted a fresh take on a not-so-old tale. But in keeping with the spirit of this month, I am also inserting a poem:

                                      Before I go, can we see one more show?

                                      Before I leave, can you tell me you still believe?

                                       Before I’m gone, can we see another dawn?

                                        Before I go, can we find another road to hoe?

                                     Before I leave, can we find more mountains to achieve?

                                         Before I’m gone, will you let me ramble on?

I guess our Easter story is a kind of resurrection. It seems so long ago that our family life fell apart. For a while there, it seemed the three of us were torn asunder. Separated from each other and even our own selves. Perseverance, determination, along with letting go and the gift of time (which does heal) gave birth to a new incarnation. A strong trio-thick as thieves- settled in and grew up together. We spent time in the wilderness, pondered our fate and learned who our true friends were. Our new life enriched us, and like all good things, allowed for more treasure and more joy.

And now we are all ready for a newer, fresher start. When spring is done and summer has just begun, we’ll go on to new lives, knowing full well that yes indeed we have risen!

 

 

 

 

 

Red Hill Resurrection

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Red Hill Summit: Lake Winnipesaukee in the distance

 

Morning broke with sunrise Alleluias at The Rock

Acoustic accompaniments to the voices of

altos, sopranos and those out of tune

Weary pilgrims shivering in the cold Easter dawn

Reflecting and reciting in the woods’ spring hush

Midday brings a bolder journey still

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The steep brilliant hike up a slush covered hill

Mother and sons make the 2000 foot ascent

Breathing deep

Each step more steep

The oldest using his powerful speed

The feast at the summit consumed in near silence

The youngest reminding us as we view the tranquil vastness

of why we do this:

We can’t let life pass us

The gang of three leave this sacred place

Hearts full, feet moving at a dancer’s graceful pace

 

Day 5. A little late after a great day with my sons.