Poetry is Secrets Revealed and Veiled Simultaneously - The Ramblings of Hope

The Ramblings of Hope


 Why do I a poem write,

When paragraphs would fill the blanks

Stories to be told in pros

Are secrets deeper row by row.


Magic in the words 

Blossom like roses 

A bush of thorns from the bottom

The thorns of truth are often hidden

Behind the petals of Beautifully Veiled 

Selectively Worded.


If at light I slept with ease, 

Beneath the trees in a summer breeze,

Then, a story I might write

Full of marvel and delight

But the truth is far to close

The cold and wind around me blows.


Fear and uncertainty grip my core

Can I even shut the door?

Panic as the ghosts appear,

Harsh words ringing in my ear,

As my panic grows and grows,

The thorns cannot protect the rose.


Shut the door

The past is gone

You can't be hurt, so

Turn it off.


I can't 

You see

because for me,

The past is now, the future is free

If im not here, or there, or then

I never was and never am.


I am,  however,

I stand tall and true

These thorns I grew them just for you

Though I may be cut and arranged

In some way that is quite Deranged,

At the base I am a bush of thorns,

With sentience I choose my corse 

And as such I am a tree,

The past chopped down and as for me

A sword to train you for this life,

A shield protecting you from strife,

For I am,

And always was,

Now and then and there.


I can't be here forever love

And when it is my time,

I will remain your shield and sword 

You will notice a new shine

For shield of strength that no-one knew 

Sword of fire for doing right

Your mother will not be forever, son,

Its all a part of life.


I am the sword

I am the shield

The fire and the shine

No matter how long,

No matter how far 

My life no longer mine.


I chose you then

I choose you now 

Caterpillar Boy

For you are hope

You are kind 

One day you will fly.


When you fly

It is said: good men are surely kind.

You are not good

You are not man

You are Brave, Kind 

Son of mine.


So this is for you 

Butterfly man,

Caterpillar Boy

All that you will become

I give you all my love.


I am the bush of roses son,

The world a cruel place.

I learned I couldn't trust myself 

My beauty quickly fades.


I am the shield of rose wood son,

The tree from which it was made,

I was and am and always will be 

Shielding you from pain.


I am the sword of doing right

and I teach you every day

Truth, kindness, tact and grace

Are keys to find the way.


I am now sleeping peacefully

Under a tree 

On a warm day

The breeze I send for you my son

To caress your face.


No more cold and sleepless nights

No fear that I must face

For being your shield

Your sword

The path is lit again.


May you live as caterpillar

Content and peaceful as can be

Hunger always satiated

May you always be free.


May your cocoon years be full

Of lessons true and right

May you notice changes

Encounter curiosity, no fright.


May you fly dear butterfly,

Free into the world.

With a map, support and plan 

Determined before time, before then, after that or somewhere in-between

Its you and me 

My precious Boy

When you try we are both freed.


And the rose released her seeds.


-Madi-


(I know this has a dark undertone, but it is not a letter of intent, nor is this meant as anything other than me, recognizing my pain, struggles and growth as well as the trauma and how actually horrific my childhood was, I have made it my duty to create a childhood that is vastly different for my child.  In so doing I must let out these emotions somehow so this is how I am doing that.)






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