Tiny Voice
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like Lovie Divine.
In the latter 90’s, I was a part of the experience of my very own young daughter having an unplanned pregnancy. She didn’t need judgement, condemnation, or ridicule, she needed a compassionate parent who would be there for her support. First, to find a clinic to confirm what we suspected, and it was if our steps were ordered to find First Coast Women’s Services of Jacksonville. They privately educated my daughter and hoped she would chose life for her unborn. I learned more about how they did things, with tactful integrity and with all of the careful compassion and professionalism one could possibly hope for, because after this, I became a volunteer there and was trained as a counselor. Although my position there wasn’t for very long, my certificate is proudly hung in my home office and with humble pride, I found myself a pro life advocate. In part, it was for how my daughter was treated, and how the whole uncomfortable situation was dignifyingly handled; but if I am to be completely honest, it was how proud I was of my daughter, who was obviously not physically ready to have a child. She was frail and just freshly in high school; but from day one throughout, her love for her unborn was without any concern for much of anything else, and her inherent heart for life was without any influence, but was the very dna of her mom. It was the first reason for my political transition; for feeling that there should never be a compromise to choosing life once it’s truly there. I believe in contraception, and I believe in prevention; but I became appalled at those in power who caved in to the pocket lining pull to facilitate abortion and doing so under the guise of naming it planned parenthood, when it is not at parenthood they were truly aiming. I was a young mother myself, ended up being a single parent who did everything in my power to provide and protect my children. If it weren’t for my own mother loving and supporting me, and helping me when I needed help, perhaps I would have turned out differently. I don’t think we should fight amongst ourselves and make everything iron clad... but I think we should always encourage and protect the lives of the unborn and mothers there alike. Considering first ourselves. What if it were us with no voice to be heard? Who would there be to cause our mothers to really think about us, that we are not just a mass, but a tiny voice, a spirit being who can think and feel... just not speak and be heard.
TINY VOICE
Suddenly an encompassing warmth and awareness,
With understanding of thought somehow;
A sudden feeling of rejection and sorrow,
And I don't feel safe right now.
A sense of security I am longing for,
A source of comfort from no other,
And now desperate compellings to make you aware
That I know you are my mother.
My insecurity is streaming from your fear,
You can’t see my face, but I pray alas
My tiny voice, you'll somehow hear,
Crying out, I'm much more than a mass.
I am the image of God, resembling you,
I can think, I can feel, I can cry.
When given the right to choose my life,
Why did you choose that I should die?
I am but a tiny voice is true,
But instead of your love, fear is there.
The circumstances shouldn't matter as much as my life,
You’re the only one who has to care.
You’re too young, too old, afraid for sure,
Don’t think you can handle this.
I’m so sorry for the obvious trauma
The blows of life with it’s problematic fist
Yes it’s between you, your heart and your God,
It’s not just your body
But now I am involved
No easy solution and problems solved
We’ve come a long way to have no resolve
Please hear my crying,
Feel my cleave to life, my trying,
Just let me live, if even given to another,
You’ll forever be my precious mother.
Or if pulled apart, and left for dead;
I’ll still be a tiny voice in your head.
Copyright © Lovie Divine | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment