I recently read a poem entitled "Confession" that inspired this, the second poem of my adult career.
I am a smudged windowpane full of morning sky and honeyed light.
I read fairy tales when I want to be reminded that the world is wondrous, and I am desirable.
My thoughts have a habit of multiplying like rabbits and then scattering like stray cats. For years I devoted my life to trying to herd them all, before realizing I’d much rather be gardening. Now my patio is bedecked with blossoms of every color.
I am courageous: I have learned to tell my story with my whole heart. On the days I forget this, my courageous friends remind me.
Unfortunately, I sometimes find myself laughing in the face of criticism, as if to say, “your cutting words can’t penetrate my carefree exterior,” when what I really mean is, “your words have pierced my pulpy heart.”
© by scj