The Poetry Marathon

She laughs, pauses, then laughs again.

It is infectious, this child’s laughter.

We don’t know what she finds so funny,

but we can’t help but smile at

the pure joy

the innocence

the beauty

the freedom

the trust

the unbridled passion

the discovery

She takes a breath and looks around

Sees the joy in our eyes and on our faces

Sees how her mirth triggers ours in an

endless cycle of humor and happiness.

We look at her and see ourselves before

the cares of the world wore us down.

We are reminded, in that moment, of what it is

to take joy in the wonders of the world.

In that little girl’s laughter, we hear the echoes of

our innocent selves and see, in her, the possibilities

Of a brighter, more beautiful, and joyful future world

And she laughs again.

Anxiety swirls in my stomach like an F5 tornado

sweat leaks from my palms in age-old embarrassment

the thoughts rushing through my brain like seagulls after bread

Hot then cold waves wash over my body in a sussurus of fear, shame, guilt.

I’ve failed so many times before.

Begun so many times before

Left unfinished, abandoned, lost to time and memory

Only to return as a reminder of inadequacy

As flashes of pain that make me want to turn away,

or cover my eyes to avoid seeing the wreckage-

but the wreck is inside me and I can’t cover my mind’s eye

So I will distract myself with dreams of success and joy

I will plod along – the draft horse pulling the plow-

Tilling the fertile soil of my imagination.

I will plant the seeds, water then with my sweat and tears

and rejoice when they bloom.

My first poetry marathon and I’m not even sure I’ll be able to compete fully. But I’m going to try. It’s been a while since I’ve written poems regularly, so this will be a real challenge.