“Looking Back at Me”

when I look at myself
some times
I see the past
some times
I see the present

the weight I’ve gained
the parts that are aging
the gray
but then I think of the kids
and what they see

they see the mother they looked to
while breastfeeding
they see the profile of the mommy
who used to burp them
they see the beauty of the one
who’s made them smile
they see the comforting arms
that’ve held them
they see the lap they used to lay on
while watching movies
they see the hands of the woman
who has led them
they see the eyes and the face
of who’s always loved them

age doesn’t stick out to them
because they’re aging too
and we’re still growing
as a family
in the soil of love

“Different Places”

there’s a difference between

wanting to die
and
not wanting to live

I know
because I was there yesterday

oh how I want to write about it
but there’s an element of hiding
that can’t be seen

it’s not that I’m isolating
FROM any one
it’s that I’m isolating TO
the only One Who can help

but this process NEEDS
to be written
it just may need to be
the old-fashioned way