Long Neonatal Poems
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Fulfilled people have one thing in common; they have full hearts; purpose, and a mission.
Knowing you are needed every day, knowing you make a difference, can ruin depression,
Obliterate poor me, and doldrums; erase anxiety and sadness.
How do you build your soul into the person you were meant to be?
Fulfilled people help others, knowing the benefits are unparalleled.
They are compassionate and enthusiastic. They feel joy.
The people you help may not express thanks.
They may be cranky and mean.
They may be sullen.
They may be nasty.
But when you know that what you are doing is helping, and you know
What you doing is what you were sent to do,
You become
A Fulfilled person.
No one can take your joy, no one can steal your happiness. No one can hurt you.
If you have not found your “you self” yet, start avidly looking.
Made someone smile. Check. Made someone laugh. Check. Made someone feel special. Check.
Babies in neonatal units need to be cuddled; you could do that.
A young family would appreciate a free Saturday night baby sitter.
You could learn 8-year-old lingo, and introduce the 4 year olds to dandelion flower rings and homemade playdough.
Humane societies always need volunteers; taking a dog home might help you find your bliss.
If you are lonely, sad, feeling ugly or mad, click off your TV.
Go outside yourself and help someone.
Fulfilment almost always never happens alone.
Go find your joy!
lest we forget angels
lifting up
the fallen child,
the one within
the rocking carriage.
thumb-sucker delicacies,
in fetal position,
cosseted by wings
of a fan, blowing
away the neonatal blanket.
lest we forget angels
just out of reach,
palms up,
waiting for baby steps.
down on your knees,
back on the stairs, descending
a lofty set, just a few.
you turn
and stare.
how’d you jump
from the ledge,
when shorter to the ground?
now if you leap,
you’ll need replacement parts.
just staring at the carpeted steps
might do the same.
lean on the angels
like a cane. they pluck out
your pacifier, perhaps
a set of teeth, stained
with coffee and berries.
your very best haloes,
fiery rings,
you must pass through -
wisdom flames
of black and blue.
lest we forget angels
from birth to steps of death.
they have to work
with frailty, scratching
their perfect heads,
but always…ALWays
trusting God,
thanking him.
lest we forget angels
whose eyes sees God.
our guardians of home -
one we leave behind,
one where we belong.
7/25/2021