Breakfast & Birds

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As a young girl coming of age, I spent hours, sometimes days, writing poetry. I filled journal upon journal, wide-ruled loose leaf page after wide-ruled loose leaf page with the angst, dreams, heartbreak, hopes and desires of a teenage girl. It was like finding my voice for the first time. I wrote all throughout high school but once I got to college the words didn’t come as easily. Perhaps it had something to do with living more out loud than before, finally quenching my own thirst just by living that I didn’t need writing to help me experience it.

Motherhood did something to let the words flow again.

breastfeeding poem

hummingbird poem

Poetry often feels like prayer* to me. I can’t tell if it’s crap or not but I feel a lightness afterwards, a sigh to the universe.

Tell me. Do you write poetry? Do you have a favorite poem?

*I refer here to the prayers of my youth whose lines are engraved in my brain from many years in Catholic schools. Prayer has since morphed into something much more sacred and manifests itself in many, many ways. Amen.

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  1. “Breakfast in Bed” really moved me this morning. I went back to work about 3 months ago after having my first son 10 months ago and I am having a hard time. This morning he was nursing and I felt like I had to wrench him from my breast so I wouldn’t be late. It’s terrible. I hate it. I always knew the definition of yearning, but I never experienced it until I had to start leaving my son. Your poem is another reminder that motherhood is more important, to me, than my career or our material belongings. It strengthens my resolve to find some way to be able to stay with him and still provide financially. Thank you!


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