I AM One
In a long line of poets.
~
My grandmother,
Now ninety-eight,
Spent lifetime writing about her God.
She writes about how “He Lives!”
And how “Great He Is.”
How he offers up chocolate when hunger gnaws,
And a ten dollar bill when there is nothing.
He is her Master as well as her Salvation.
Her Source, her Solace, her sole Inspiration.
~
My mother,
Much younger,
Spent days scattered through years writing about her life.
She writes about love and children
And how great they are.
How they offer up a busy day when depression threatens,
And hope, when there is none.
They are her Challenge as well as her Comfort.
Her Dreams, her Accomplishments, her Future.
~
My daughter,
Much younger still,
Spent hours writing about this world and its inequities.
She writes about joy and despair
And how they affect reality‘s perception.
How they roam through her life with a life of their own,
Leaving impressions as reminders of what has been endured.
They are her Teachers as well as her Nemeses
Her Motivators, her Fears, her Companions.
~
I,
Marking my age near the middle,
Spend hours, days, weeks, writing about them all.
I write about lessons learned and connections made,
And how they nurture growth.
How they forge the way back to God,
Creating opportunities to correct mistakes and try again.
They are my Source, my Dreams, and my Motivation.
~
Together,
We write the vital, the real,
Telling a history (herstory) of divine women,
Each doing her best, in her own way,
To figure it out and move forward.
