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Poem

Hours of stressful birthing was an arduous task.
From Mother's waters I was pushed and drawn.
Since then, I've wondered, is it too much to ask
for a gentler method for a child to be spawn
then to be tossed into the stream of life to bask.
I paddled on a stormy sea yelling, "Bring it on!!"

I soon learned to accept the wisdom of Donne's,
'No Man Is an Island.' My choices took a toll on me.
I traipsed on stepping stones; watched setting suns.
Shorelines held no appeal, for I belonged to the sea
Life was a series of rom-coms and dramatic reruns.
I felt like I was homeless, floating in life's debris.

I swam with the ebbing tide, seeking a placid shore
where my hopes and dreams would not drift away.
I yearned for this, and something worth much more,
a heart bound with mine until our hair turned gray.
Are these few trenchant things too much to ask for?
If not, I'd be complacent any where and every day.


October 9, 2021
Islands in the Stream Contest
Sponsored by:  Craig Cornish

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