They Are All My Children Part I
Each poem I birth
Is a child of my heart
Flesh of my flesh
Bone of my bone
Word of my soul
Conveyor of my emotions
Each one is unique
Different….
One is always happy
And sees the bright side of life
The eternal optimist
With not a care in the world
With a song on her lips
She traipses about and everywhere she goes
Flowers bloom
And the sun peeks out
To welcome her
The other is intimately acquainted
With her mother’s world
Of suffocating despair
She sees the tear behind the smile
The insecurity behind the laugh
Her loneliness
This child of my is consumed by worry
That Mama may go through with it this time
And no longer be there to love her
She quietly watches
Her daily fight for survival
For escape
From the demons that haunt her life
And so…she bears her sorrow
Trying to be strong for MAMA
Her tears she hides as she cries in the closet
Knowing its Mama’s tears in her eyes
And Mama’s pain in her heart
I love this child of mine, for she sees what no one else sees
One of my children was conceived in frenzied passion
And she is its embodiment
She devours life
Her passion relishes
Life
Love
Nature
Friends
She is intense to the point of insanity
Those who know her are electrified by her presence
For she is….
Always endearing
Always charming
Always in love
Always flirting...teasing...pleasing
Always passionate….to the point of losing herself
In the moment
My little one….ah, my little one is a romantic dreamer
Her eyes never focus on the here and now
She perches on the windowsill
Seeing her castle in the distance
Waiting for her knight in shining army
To sweep her away on his gallant steed
With flowing mane
And thundering hoofs
Matching the thundering beat of her heart
She waits to be whisked to
A forever land of dreams
Of flowers and sunshine
Of birds chirping by streams
And love better than in the world she’s seen
Oh, but my eldest
How my heart bleeds
For my child of wrath
Born of my affair with Zeus
Sending out thunderbolts
Livid by injustice
Seething with anger
At all that is inhumane
Welding his sword
Eager for revenge
For retribution
I fear for this my child
Who often is about to draw blood
In mortal combat with the enemy
Ever at the point of death...
(End of Part I)
Eileen Manassian Ghali
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