Here I am
a woman in mid-life
with thick thighs and a rounded belly.
The mirror declares my years with strands of silver
and nicely lined eyes. This can't be true.
I thought I'd be a famous writer when I looked like this.
Youthful expectations.
I had time. So much time. And suddenly...
I am matured. When did this happen to me?
It was only a few months ago that I was
a native princess, placing one foot in front
of the other, quietly making a trail through the woods.
Watching a stick boat float across the lane way
on it’s journey into my brother’s side of the yard.
Stacking books into the treehouse
my father made in the willow tree
and lying back on piles of pillows
to read and read and read.
Mere weeks since I pressed my lips
against those of a sweet, shy boy
with big brown eyes for the very first time.
I loved him with all my heart. But it wasn’t enough
to save me from the devil.
And when my life became a dark passageway
my heart shut down.
But a few days ago, Africa. Oh Africa. It’s true what they say.
Africa gets in your blood. And makes it sing.
It was just yesterday that my heart awoke, grew legs,
and began to run around outside my body.
I named it Michael and it beats and pumps
as he lives each day of his life.
I didn’t know how much he would mean to me
until he was part of me.
Just moments ago I thought perhaps if I married a man
who is everything I’m not...
that together we would fit. Even with jagged edges.
But the light flooding through the holes
illuminated separate journeys.
Reality can be sad.
Years have simply passed. While my life unfolded.
So here I am. A middle-aged woman
with a past of untrodden paths
who is finding her way through the dark.
Time passes. Pain eases. Life moves ahead.
I never knew that this is who I wanted to be
until I got here. And right now I know.
Here I am.
At last.
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