Broken Wing

just fluttering…another random act of poetry….

Once 

upon a time

a girl who admired words

like paints

on a palette

enrolled 

in a college poetry class

her words brushed the canvas

forming the landscape

filling the scene

but the professor said

no

wrong colors

wrong strokes

I thought this was my painting

so I took it back

and hid it

and quietly cried

over the B+

that tainted

my perfect G.P.A.

 

Father, help me not to break their little wings.  Thank you for mending mine.

Sometimes it’s hard to listen to the same math facts being missed over and over. Sometimes it’s hard to coach a writing assignment to completion without sighs of frustration.  As I teach my three, I need wisdom and patience to let them practice flying – even when they seem to be just fluttering about and going nowhere.  Even fluttering about is beautiful in its own way.

 

UPDATE:

Don’t take my poem too seriously…a writing challenge just got me thinking about my one poetry class…which got me thinking about how much one person’s encouragement or discouragement can mean in our lives…which got me thinking about the ways I speak into the lives of my little ones…