Play peek-a-boo
Wondering what the world is made of.
How frustrating it is
That your arms and legs wont move
just the way you want them too.
I see you
Search the mirror each morning
for flaws and imperfections
How heart breaking it is
that your face isn't like
Those picturesque women
Everyone has come to expect
I see you
Complaining to your friends
Of aches and pains
And mysterious lumps
How sad it is
Your body is degrading
So early and so much
I would have chosen each chromosome
To make it perfect if I could
It never would have faded
It would have been immaculately beautiful
It would have learned so much more quickly
But all I could do
Was open up a door
And offer my body for yours
Not my best poetry ever, but this morning I'm sitting here hurting from having a lump removed. Then as I watch my daughter get frustrated that she can't lift herself up the way she wants to, I remembered being so hurt every time I looked in the mirror growing up. My body was too big, too pimply, to awkward.
Then I looked at my daughter and thought how perfect her body is. It isn't "perfect", in came from imperfection; but it was just the vessel she needed to come to this earth. I would have made it perfect if I could, but all I could do was invite her to come. I am grateful my mother invited me, I know I waited anxiously, this body is what I waited and hoped and dream of.
Then my thoughts turned to the Savior and the price He payed so that I could come down and have a body.
Well, lets just say, "You can color me grateful.", instead of frustrated.
What color is grateful anyway? Do you think it would go with my blue shirt?
8 comments:
It goes with any shirt. My lovely mE, what a beautiful piece. I think I will share it on my blog. Hugs
Here thru' hummers blog. Keep writing . All the best
Good Morning Sweetie...
I am Country Wings in Phoenix. Your sweet Moma - Hummer sent me by to read your poem this morning. You have a beautiful gift from God to write sweet friend. So touched my heart this morning.
I pray everything has gone well for you with this lump. Just another detour on our journey down this road called life. I will keep you in my prayers.
For some reason when I tried to sign up to follow you it came in as stoneshy which is my email name. But just wanted you to know it is me sweetie.
Please stop by and say hi. I may be able to make you smile this morning.
Country hugs...Sherry
I think this is a beautiful poem and rings very true for me. I hope you keep writing!
xoxo
Jane
Well, Mom had to tell me about the lump. SIGH. More stuff, eh?
You've got real heart - I love seeing the world through your eyes.
What color is grateful? Deep crimson, the color of blood. The color of the Savior's blood in the garden - because gratitude is love, and I don't think any other color would suffice.
What do you think?
Thank you so much for stopping by ladies! I enjoyed looking at your blogs as well.
Just to clarrify. I had a cyst on my head... it's no biggy but because of past history it might be something more so we had it removed. Probably more effort than it was worth but frusterating in that it had to be worried about at all. No breast cancer :) (Yrggish was worried it might be misunderstood.)
Tex-
Maybe that's why my favorite color is crimson. The only other color I could think of is white. Simply because when you look at it it seems so simple, yet it holds all the wonder of every color possible. The rainbow is captured in white.
mE
As I was reading this, Lil Red was playing peek a boo with me and bumped his head on the desk.I do that with the Savior sometimes, sigh. Great poem and analogy mE. I loving you!
I was a little alarmed at mention of a 'lump'. Glad it wasn't too serious. Great poem! I love getting glimpses of the way people think about things :) Love you guys, and can't wait to have you closer. OOOOOOxxOOOOO's
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