Holding A Poem

At times
Holding a poem
That is unfolding inside
Can feel heavy

The words

Lining up
To give voice
To pain

Other times

The poem being held
Links together inside
With ease

The words

Floating and light
Happy
In their release

Each poem

In need of shelter
As it forms

Today

The poem
I’m holding inside
Is heavy

And my job

Is only this

To show it respect

And hold it close

And give it the time required

To form the words it needs
To be free

Vulnerable In This World

I can’t help but notice
They are so
Unprotected
Fragile
Vulnerable
In this world

Our children

But over time
With teaching
Lessons can be learned

With practice
Their little bodies
Will get stronger

Until someday
They no longer need
Our protection

I can’t help but notice
They are so
Unprotected
Fragile
Vulnerable
In this world

Our parents

The lessons they

Were meant to learn
Long since learned

Their weakening bodies

Never to be returned
To the strength of the past

From this point forward

They now and will always
Need protection
 
Our children
Our parents

Standing at
Different ends
Of vulnerable
In this world

Because they are new here

Or preparing to leave here

Each of us

Together here

With those

That we love
Dearly here

Finding our way

Through

Your Heart Can Take It

Much like when
You can’t imagine

Lifting the weight required

For a final rep

One more burpee

Tacked onto an impossible set

Another pushup

Supported by shaking arms

And you push through anyway

Certain that your heart
Will explode

You learn this

Your heart can take it

In the same way
That your heart
Can take the pain

Of one more devastation

Of a rejection

Unexpected and deep

Of a disappointment

That has all the signs
Of being the one
That finally breaks you apart

Your heart can take it

Your heart can take it in class

Your heart can take it in life

Your heart beats

With a strength
All its own

Holding together

The one
It beats
Inside of

Known Me Well

When I die
All my words
May die too

Erased from cyberspace

Hardcopies tossed away

But my writing

Will not have been
In vain

For by writing

I will
Have known
Me well

And all who’ve read it

Will have known me well
Too
 

My Own Voice

If you’ve always
Had permission
To speak

Had years of practice

Speaking your truth

Valuing your own thoughts

And expressing them
To others
Who value them
Just as much

Than you can’t know

What’s it like
To not have a voice

To have lived

Silenced
In many ways

You can’t know

The work
That being heard
Requires

How quiet it has to be

For me to acknowledge
My own true feelings
To even myself

How much space

Is required
For me to hear
My own voice

So this is why

You won’t find me
Yelling above the crowd
To be heard
 
Screaming my truths
To the world
 
Singing above
A whisper
At times

I’m still learning

To hear
The sound of
My own voice
 
So that one day
It can be shared