Sunday, April 16, 2006

Poetry...after all these years!

(Sifting through notebooks tonight and came upon, to my utter amazement, poetry!
Seems I am writing without noticing or even remembering. Indulge me, eh?)
* * *
Happy New Age
* * *
The new year comes walking through the door of marching time.
I gaze into the mirror and wonder who this woman is that I have become.
She is heavier by degree and her face has markings some would say give character.
* * *
Time blurs by as the children are raised and my children have children.
How do they grow older and I am only now feeling the touch of the constant clock?
I am the bloomed bloom that has not yet faded but shows signs of knowing a broader vision.
* * *
Some might say that the shedding of youth is wisdom hanging its hat on your soul.
My body moves through the world at a slower pace yet my dreams now take a stronger stride.
This life is more aligned with my heart at this stage then I ever knew could come to fruition.
* * *
Long gone are the dreams of being Miss America or any type of beauty queen.
I rest with the faith of the idea that beauty lies within and finds magic there which draws like honey.
Still when rising time comes in the morning I rustle this frame awake and feel my body to be a stranger.
* * *
These days I am living from the inside out and not from the outside in.
It is not the mirror where I find my self, but in the middle of me, in the center of my self.
The world has not yet fully embraced this concept, finding beauty to be only one dimensional.
* * *
Age, ages, aging graces my body and my soul.
Dancing with the shifts of time that come in so many brown paper wrapped boxes.
Time marches by as I sit in my center watching the blurs of it and adjusting to this ever changing me.

Draped In Glory

I once believed that if I were a man
My life would be different
My longings were for
The power and dignity given
To men without question
I wished that I had this assumption
Granted to me as a woman

But I was young when these thoughts
Lighted upon me and I had no inkling
Of my own empowerment as a woman
The years have taught me differently

The world has a popular view of how
Things should be for men and for women
In my youth I didn't know
That I could choose
Another way of creating how I would be
Disregarding the well worn path of
All those societal role assignments
that had come before me

In saying that I am woman I say
That I am a creature with softness
That is learned by knowing hardness in her self
As female I am able to wander into many
Places unafraid of what will be found
Inside the inner chambers of her heart

And I, in my womanhood, know that
My reality is a thing created by
The products of my imaginations
Like a painter I paint my own canvas
As I see fit, disregarding what the
Majority would want or dare to see

I have been called witch, sorceress
Blasphamist, trader and I let the names
Drip down and over me knowing they
Do not fit me in any way at all
I am woman in her glory


Blogger Marie Jarrell said...

I finally visted your blog. Wow, what beautiful poetry. It brought tears to my eyes. "feel my body to be a stranger." yeah, I know that one intimately. The lines you have written are wise and profound. I'm linking to your site if that's okay. :)

7:30 PM  
Blogger Gwendolyn C. Natusch said...

Marie Jarrell,

Thanks for stopping by. It means a lot to me that others are coming here to pause and to share. Please link to this blog if you are so inclined. Thank you for your supportive words!


2:00 PM  

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