Poetry, short prose, & general musings.
The train wreck is too hard to watch
The conversation too difficult to engage
Relentless patterns that repeat and repeat
Wear me thin until I break
What does it mean to stay?
What does it say if I leave?
I long to do what’s right
But right for who, exactly?
I do not live in isolation
Inertia is my master.
How much simpler
To be alone-
Yet how empty.
I recall a quote from a beloved story:
“Happiness is only real when shared.”
Sometimes we say
What will we do?
We have an hour before bedtime
Unsure how to fill the minutes
For our children who need so much
Then I hold my oldest child
And realize he no longer fits in my lap
His gangly legs an awkward bundle
As I try to scrunch him down
Into the baby he was once
To be a parent
Is to do battle with time
We understand that it will exhaust us
Tantrums, sickness, “no you can’t do that”, tickles, chasing, stories, meal times, decisions, discipline
It’s work that you feel deep in your bones
Yet to also know
It is like trying to hold sand
And watch it fall uncontrollably through your fingertips.
As these babies grow and grow, farther into themselves and away from needing us.
Time, please show us grace.
I’m holding out hope
This ship will turn
And fire from years past
Can rekindle a weak heart
As we pass through days
Toiling, giving of ourselves
To what we deem as worthy
Our hands will brush
Eyes meet
We begin again
Clinging to what was
Begging for something new.
Whoever you will be
Despite or because of me
Is a mystery
Both exciting & terrifying
The possibilities
My control is minimal
To love you
Is the most precious gift
Kacie B. Sharpe 