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That I always used to be-
Whose waistline when 29 was just 23-
Although 'petite' I was never designed to be-
Who swam naked in the sea
And on its surface would water ski-
Whose thoughts were never ruled by another,
Not Sisters, nor Dad, nor even Mother.
Whose spirit rallied at the chance to travel,
And whose equilibrium would not unravel
If the storms still came drenching the tree tops
But would dance unclad in the pelting raindrops.
Whose skunk-sprayed Coon hound pup leapt to her belly-
And her cougar encounter turned her knees to jelly.
Who slew copperheads that breached the patio-
And helped to train horses for the rodeo,
And in parades rode her mare Sweetheart,
But in the arena she never took part-
And to see her kids playing, her heart would soar
As she quietly watched them from inside the door-
Who mopped herself to bed each night
So her floors would be clean in the morning's light-
Who bedded in black lace in all kinds of weather,
Or often as not just her all together.
And always hummed or sang her song
During her waking hours, no matter how long-
Whose loves were as cherished as life itself,
Who never had to worry about her health-
Whose joy in cooking a special meal
Was equal to offering her prayers to heal-
Who received the messages from dreams,
And shared with the dreamers the hidden themes.
Whose laugh was spontaneous and full of glee-
No, I'm not the me, I used to be.
In many ways perhaps I'm better now
Though I can't find the phrases to explain just how-
It is like a knowing within my soul
That somehow I add up to a calmer whole,
A being that's content to hear, and see,
And knows, somehow, I'm a better me.
©Dec 1, 2023 Mary E. Adair
that I used as my pic in the Dreamtime Room of the website
"Shrine of Hope" when interpreting dreams.
Clk on the author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the
blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the
latter.
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