What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Yet she knows in her gut, the balancing scale between her head and her heart, what lies behind are lies still present. Her heart prays what her head rationalizes that what happened, happened; and the future still holds promise.
repairing
a porcelain teacup
broken trust
©2017 All Rights Reserved – Sheri L. Prielipp-Falzone
write through it
like ink drops on cream
swirling words
©2017 All Rights Reserved – Sheri L. Prielipp-Falzone
The sights and sounds of spring always bring to my mind mothers and children. And as the days led up to Mother’s Day, my daily journal reflected on my childhood, my mother, my childhood and being a mother too.
5/5/2017
as they grew
the Lord took her hand
she blossomed too
5/6/2017
tangled roots
buried in childhood
tripping me
5/7/2017
how the grow
lilies of the field
yellow bus
5/8/2017
barbed wire
her spoken prayers
the sparrow
5/9/2017
a tether
between young and old
mother’s will
5/10/2017
how are you
she hears something else
my mother
5/11/2017
my first nurse
without a degree
mother’s love
5/12/2017
wiped with
a downy feather
mother’s tear
left behind
echoes of their song
empty nest
The rooftop
Singing her prayers
The sparrow
5/13/2017
used to be
silence was golden
empty nest
5/14/2017
vibrant hues
a floral bouquet
mother’s pride
