I’ve always been intimidated by poetry. Reading it sometimes makes me feel dumb and writing it? Goodness, I’m not sure I have any skill to offer up to a reader. But as I spent many weeks filled with many hours unable to walk postpartum, I started reading poetry. And this is why I now have a Google doc titled “Poems that are Probably Terrible”. I’m doing something brave here. I’m starting to share them—even the ones that feel a bit raw and untidy. I hope that they will resonate with a few of you.
I’ll be saving them all to a section here on the blog called “Poetry”. I’ve really enjoyed dipping my toe into this type of creative writing. I hope you enjoy reading them.
I sit,
cradled arms
heavy with the weight of something so
beautiful
breathtaking
unbearably precious.
My wrists ache under your body
and the joy your tiny frame
has brought me.
I take in all the smells,
both sour and splendid.
Spilled milk and baby’s breath.
They remind me I’m alive.
Like you.
Oh, and you have been
alive
from the moment you were conceived.
No matter what they say.
Forget them sweet baby,
for I felt your life within,
and I know the God who knitted you together there.
And that was the moment
I started dreaming of you.
You used to dream in my womb;
now you dream in my arms.
