Poetry

Writing poetry is one of my many ways I express my thoughts. Here's a new poem. (I'll add more from time to time.)

My Life is not as I Expected

I arrived late at the altar of marriage,long past my fertility use-by date,On our family treemy line ends abruptly.Unable to seed the future,I mine the pastdig deeply,into veins of familial misfortunebear witness to stories,long suppressedbehind sugar-starched, lace curtains.
My revelations inspire fearin those who hide the truthbehind forced smiles.Or seal their lipswith fermented libations.They would have me write fictioncloak history in gossamer,present images thatbear no resemblanceto those whose genes we share.
They whisper that I,childless, unfetteredfree of impressionable children,have abandoned self-controlin favor of self-indulgence.Perhaps they are right,for I disdain high pedestalsthat require vigilant balance.Instead, I tread the fallow fieldsand spread the storiesof lives lived when lifehad to be raked from barren soil.
My written wordsshall carry forward our history,that it may be utteredby the young who follow me.Unlike those before uswho discovered truthsand tried to express themin a time and placewhere their voices could not riseabove a whisper,this next generation will be armedwith knowledge of the pastAnd able to build a lifeOn the pedestals of truth.I send this gift into the futureIt will be my offeringfrom beyond the grave.