I was born a Southern girl
Into a story-telling culture.
A budding Southern woman
Meeting expectations of the times.
I excelled at both.
But something more lurked beneath that child
True to myself and unknown.
My parents told me there were times
I turned my little rocking chair
To face the wall. Mama said “Leave her there.”
Did something peek beyond compliant self?
There must have been a hint of poetry to come
From solitude that is my homeland
And my second mother – recognized by Mama’s loving heart.
Who did entrust me to my future gift.
poetrybyheart.me 
That is lovely and evokes the creativity that hid in your soul. ❤
Thanks. That is just what I meant to say. Your comments mean a lot to me. ❤
Thank you. I love it when someone gets me too. 😊💖
Hard to find the words to compliment this one other than “you outdid yourself.”
Thanks, Susan. This one felt real and powerful to me. It came from a place deep inside my being. ❤
This is one of your best. Deeply moving seems cliché, but that is what I feel from this one.
I’m glad what I felt writing the poem communicated with you. The rocking chair story was told to me by my mother when I was very young and became a part of family lore. Until I wrote this poem I never connected this in a positive way with my love of solitude. I just thought my mother left me there because she didn’t know what to do with me, though I know she loved me very much.
and then the poetry came… and you blessed us with verses 🙂
Thank you, July. Your comments are dear to me. ❤
I really like that. Solitude is such a nice word. And I crave it as well. 🙂
May I also say I really like the Ghanaian quote you have at the top of the page? I’ve been chewing on that for a while now. The saying is true, but I have no idea why. Strange, isn’t it?
Thanks for your comment. I’m happy that you like the Ghanaian quote. I think it is true because I have experienced it metaphorically. Can’t explain it either. 🙂
There is a seed in the young version of all us. It waits for nourishment and enrichment from our parents, sometimes in spite of them. Yours sprouted and grew until the bloom bursts out of tightly folded petals into a magnificent, glorious array of colors.
This a beautiful poem of a comment. Thanks, Meredith. ❤
That’s the nicest compliment I’ve had in a while! Thanks.
Such a lovely memory & a good thing your mama did by letting you be!
Yes. She loved me very much.
I enjoy knowing more about you. =)
D.
Many thanks. ❤
You were a lucky little girl, to have such a wise mother. That’s been my goal in rearing my two daughters, but it’s been difficult as I have a smothering Jewish mother.
Blessings on you and your daughters. It sounds you are learning to breathe on your own as you become the mother you want for them. ❤
“Solitude that is my homeland”.
Resonates with me so well, especially now. Your poetry, i tell you. I never leave without a thought (:
Your comment means so much to me. Thanks.
Oh that is good. Having lived in the South…it is just a perfect southern poem!
Thank you, JoHanna.