Monday, September 5, 2016

Marathon

 photo b8a91f00-5124-4f8f-810c-4892daa72da2_zpsqccom6ce.jpg

My life will always be an unfinished story ~ a song with no refrain.
I’m a sprinter in the race, tiring before the finish line
always giving birth to something new . . . and fickle as the wind.

I’m like the Bag Lady, pushing her cart down the street
only mine is full of paper scraps ~ poems and fairytales, unfinished
memoirs and writings I’ve promised to publish . . . someday.

I’ve always found a way to excuse myself from writing a novel.
It takes too long ~ my life has too many distractions ~ I don’t live alone!
I’ve probably started at least fifteen novels, some of which turned into short
stories, most of which became my . . . poems.

But then, here’s the non-fiction part of my life, and there’s no Bag Lady to be found.
It’s Motherhood, and I couldn’t find a pushcart big enough to hold five kids!
Giving birth was the easy part.  Labor, with all its pain and fear of death
was a piece of cake compared to raising these “bright ideas” and realizing what’s true.
You can’t sprint through life when it comes to mothering a child . . . since you’ve
already signed on for a Marathon!


Joanne Cucinello © 2016

Thursday, September 1, 2016

It Takes a Lifetime

view from the top of the hill photo: top of hill, tree springsummer08049.jpg

Move over soon ~ the young need space to grow.
It’s getting time to pass the torch . . .
And you must pass it on, don’t worry . . . you just
have to let go!  And when you do . . . go find your way
to the top of a hill. Stand there and look out far. 
See how your one life has blessed the earth,
this beautiful earth that has been your home.

Sing your song to the wind ~ let it fly wild once more.
Touch the earth with your hands and feel the pulse
of the soft mother under foot.  This has been your time.
In the span of creation, what footprints will you leave?
How many paths have you carved through the mountain
of struggle?  How many trees have you marked so that others
might find their way?

Then come down and walk on the stones you have laid.
Tell your stories and the things you have learned. 
Tell of the Great Spirit who lit your way so many times
through the dark nights, till you finally opened your eyes.
Tell the Young Ones of hope, and the journey, and not to despair
for it truly does take a lifetime to make a human heart.


Joanne Cucinello© 2016

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