6 months ago, on July 29th, 2012, I wrote a poem…ish. A poem that would make me smile when I miss home. Here is a slightly-edited version for your reading enjoyment, and because it forces me to think through it and make it a little better 🙂 Note–I cannot decide where to place line endings. Imagine it more spoken. Like slam poetry, but not, because it’s for myself more than others…hmm.
Colored post-it notes filled with scripture flying in the wind of
the fan which sings like a bug on a summer’s night.
Flowers, yellow-checkered print, and
happy light blue quilt cover to
protect from the fan and to
hold me in, along with the tie-dye, pink moshi, and old smile pillows.
Did I mention Rose, the bear?
Books surround–electronic, spiritual, romance, self-help, bibles in 3 languages.
Things I gather and don’t let go clutter every nook and cranny.
The petrified rock, sunflower rug, clocks, crafts,
marigold pot of bookmarks, wooden postcard…
The walls remind of messy mornings painting with mom,
who by the way knocks and peeks in to say goodnight and
do the thinking about tomorrow for me–
night after sweet night.
The phone sits nearby. On vibrate till the moment I shut my eyes.
A reminder that I have work to do on letting go and trusting God.
The drawers are ajar, too full of clothes I
don’t wear but can’t part with.
The closet door is shut, because if it were open the monsters could enter.
The door is cracked, because there is no smoke alarm in here and I can hear Lexee’s jingling collar and Derek better that way.
The stuffed animals stay in the net in the corner above me,
reminding of my oh-so-prevalent inner child.
Plum, Mittens, Irish, and Burden Bear wait to be loved or forgotten.
Like us all.
There isn’t much else. It’s a small room,
and I’ve only lived here 3 summers.
Still, it is a bit like home.
It’s a place where I discover beautiful books and thoughts, and pray laments and praises.
It’s a place to call my own.
And it’s where I write.