Tag Archives: poetry

33 lines, one life

10 Nov

She had asthma. She had allergies. She had glasses.
She had buck teeth. She broke them.
She had five dads and no dads. She had one mom and no mom.
She had a grandma who saved her.

Her grandma died. Her dad died. Her mom did not die.
She tortured frogs and flies. She set fires.
She had no boyfriends.
She had a white candle, a light inside her.

She ran away at 15.
She was saved again. She had a testimony.
She was a shining example of Christ’s love.
She sang. She danced. She grew her hair long.
She won an Optimist Award.

She got contacts, braces. She grew beautiful.
She was in a pageant. She didn’t win.
She went to college. She was raped at gunpoint.
She questioned her religion.
She did not question her faith.

She got married. She bought a house. She got divorced.
She had children! She welcomed them.
She and her children taught each other.
She worked. She traveled. She wrote.
She had boyfriends. She danced salsa.

She married a young man. She danced with him, sang with him.
She traveled to his country. She was loved by his family.
She tried to have his child. She failed.
She was betrayed. She questioned her love.
She did not question her faith.

She watched him grow.
She welcomed him back.
She and her family lived, loved, worked, grew together.
She sang. She danced.
She believed.


Oh Children, by Kahlil Gibran

10 Nov

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.