Gracias a las hermanas que respondieron a nuestra primera sección de Giving Voice de poesía!
Alice Ann O’Neill, SC
In the middle life, generativity is a gift and challenge.
No longer looking to others for guidance,
Rather guiding many.
No longer wondering about what will be,
Rather living in the now,
Knowing you are where you are.
No longer trying to survive financially,
Rather surviving a bursting datebook,
Balancing self with the world.
No longer changing people, places, and intimacies,
Rather committing to a beautiful permanency,
Each day new.
No longer needing so much,
Rather nurturing souls,
Bringing new life.
No longer taking energy,
Rather giving to our world,
Creativity reaching out from within.
No longer holding onto the old,
Rather releasing all: Forgiveness.
No longer saying "someone else will"
Rather going and doing,
No longer at the beginning with everything in front of you,
Rather accepting the in-between,
On-going holding on.
And I’ll Dance
S. Sarah Heger
Invited to conversation I begin to undress.
Piece by piece I do it, even as you watch.
Working to maintain calm, I expose my nakedness:
simultaneously, yet impossibly trying to hide my fear.
Here I am.
All of me.
Out there for examination.
The grossly glaring flaws and imperfection
evidence of inattention and lack of care.
I want to apologize for my nakedness,
for the ugliness I have you seeing;
to cover up what I usually, comfortably keep hidden.
But I don’t.
I am willed instead to hope that one day I’ll dance;
One day I’ll stand before you in all of my nakedness,
and rejoice in the beauty that is me.
There is a journey to be had between now and then,
a scrutinous examination to uncover the flesh;
parts of me I’ve never wanted to see,
parts I’ll never find unless you point them out.
I’ll learn them all--the scabs and scars,
the bulges and blemishes,
the feel of skin inspecting skin,
the skin tones,
the way my body moves and bends with seemingly endless ease--
movements of a clumsy grace.
The same skin, now embraced.
No longer scared, or embarrassed, or ashamed
I’ll throw my hands up and my head back and I’ll close my eyes.
Free and laughing I’ll twirl to the music inside
totally oblivious to the awkwardness and disdain I once felt in my own skin.
Welcoming all that I am,
loving myself--all of me--
and I’ll dance.
Is Never too Late
Jenny Sellaro, novice ASC
To you, who surrendered
your body at the bottom of a cypress.
You, who look death, silenced,
in a golden tomb that you have created by yourself.
I know you were judged,
condemned for your ideas
is never too late.
When you feel overwhelmed,
the wind, flowing in your lungs,
will give you new hope.
When you feel encapsulated,
stuck in what others may think about you,
destroy the barriers and be yourself.
Nothing is better than being yourself.
Remember, is never too late.
Continue to talk and you will soon be a hero.
Maybe not the one people would aspect,
but the one who is needed.
Some people are mean,
some other will always be there for you,
but this is your task:
live, love, hope,
it’s never too late, it’s never too late!
Interested in submitting poetry for August’s #SisterPoets?
- Poems must be original, never-before-published, and be on theme!
- Poems must be written by current Giving Voice participants
- Please don’t send poems longer than 40 lines
- Publication is at the discretion of the poetry editors.
August's theme: Mary (her Assumption)
Please submit your poem by July 15th to Giving Voice’s communications coordinator, Sophie Vodvarka, at email@example.com