Remember to remind yourself that this time was not rendered useless.
Remember God’s plan.
Remember,
it all happens as it happens for a reason -
no matter how unreasonable it may feel at the time.
Remember ,
it is not impossible
to change
to become
the person
you are meant to be.
Remember that also:
You. Are. Meant. To. Be.
Keep reassuring yourself of this along the way,
reminding yourself constantly.
Remember,
you know it’s easier
to stay the same, but
you will fly
if you believe
it’s not impossible
for women
to have wings

A robin’s nest was in the holly bush last week
At almost eye level, I had an intimate view
Into the life of a baby bird
Pink, frail and wanting
These small, translucent creatures
Waking ,sleeping,  eating
Had everything they needed to survive
But did not know yet how to live
I would clutch my hands in delight
At their tiny outstretched necks, their barely formed beaks
Open, seeking, receiving
I giggled at how very wide their mouths seemed
I oohed and ahhed at their desperation
To be nourished, how mom went
back and forth
Back and forth
For hours to find the food from a hidden source
I woke early the next day
Having planned all my errands around birdwatching
I got excited thinking how I would watch these babies grow
I went outside, I hunkered down
But momma Robin never came

Writing is my life
The undeniable
The need
To use words as weapons
It thrums in my veins
It pounds beneath my ribs
Like a drum
The sound
Blood rushing in my ears
The feeling
Of sharing what people need to hear
Writing is my life
Like water
Like food
It is nourishment
To sustain
Future generations
It is a eulogy
To honor
Generations that have passed
Writing is my life
Words are my weapons
Pen and paper
Are my body and my soul

At the bottom of a deep well was a hunger,
but for what I never knew.
The first time I felt it was in front of my mother's bedroom vanity-
An enormous antique made of polished oak, with triple mirrors.
I stared at it,
three of me stared back,
but I only focused on one:
A child with hair tinged green from chlorine summers,
her mouth open mouth like the top of a well
she screamed at the very sight of her vessel.
She didn’t want to be in that thing.
Years later I sat there again, it’s dusty wood, my tired eyes.
But this time the well was gone,
and I was just a girl who was now a woman.
The mirror told a different story about three reflections
of who I’d been, who I was, and who I’d become.

In the darkness, a seed is called to light
While underneath the earth
Its life force bubbles over
It remembers it’s self-worth

Seeds they slumber deep
No sign they are alive
Feel dry and hard and brittle
They seemingly have died

Their will to grow is hidden
Within protective case or shell
The soil they have chosen
Will it nourish? Will it ****?

Potential overwhelms a seed
Desperate to debut
And despite the dark around it
Light eagerly pokes through

Green shoots of awakening spring
Unfurl, vulnerable and eager
They need both dark and light to thrive
For without one, we’d have neither.