This week is a continuation of last week’s thrust entry. I am once again thrusting you backward in time, backward into the mind of an overly emotional young woman. I have always felt things acutely and nothing brings about an attack of accute-emo-itis more than love. Now I’ve never had much luck in the love department (broken engagements, affairs, being left for other men or women, blah blah blahty-blah) but the older I get the more I try and change my outlook on love. It’s a work in progress but I’m getting better at not judging my own value based on how my lovers have treated me. I’m not a sad-sack lump of a spinster. I’m a cool chick with goals and a lot of love to give, in my way. However I choose that to be now. But this girl, the one who’s about to appear below… she didn’t have that outlook. Her entire life was based around becoming a wife and mother. Yep, at the tender age of 13 when she had her first failed relationship & ever since. Up until about 2008. That girl is coming out of the shadows to share these musings with you. Hope you enjoy!
2000
Driftwood
I sit on my bed, looking out of my window.
I watch you get in your car
and drive out of my life
forever.
I loved you
I waited for you
I sacrificed for your benefit
And you drifted
away.
When you held me
My worries disappeared.
I forgot all the things
That were going wrong.
Then we began changing,
Our two new selves
Emerging from their cocoons,
And we began drifting.
Now as I sit on my bed,
I love you.
I’ll wait for you,
And you’ll drift away
again.
2000
Metamorphosis
It is dawn.
And with it comes the tide;
The waves beat in
And the waves retreat.
They fall back and feast upon themselves.
This is the steady breath of the sea.
She sits at the water’s edge
Letting the ocean lick her feet.
She begins to think as she sits:
About life, love, family and faith.
“My life is good,” she tells herself.
“My love is true,” she hesitates.
“My family is well and my faith steadfast.”
With every thought her certainty wavers and
As she thinks, she sighs. And weeps.
With every thought Mother Sea breates on.
The sun has slipped into his starry bed; and
The moon now shines in her haunting beauty.
Mother Sea lives, still singing her life-breath.
“My life is randon. Do I matter?
My love is chaotic. Should I end it?
My family is a unit and I the outsider.
My faith is sporadic.”
There on the beach she kneels and prays for change.
Slowly, reverently she turns and walks home.
It is dawn,
And with it comes the tide.
The waves beat in
And the waves retreat.
This is the stronghold of life,
The unerring breath of the sea.
Again she sits on the beach
Letting the waves kiss a path up her legs.
Once again she begins to think
About life, love, family and faith.
“It is good.”