Marathon

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

It Takes a Lifetime

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