Serena's Poems

  The Little Ones Who Call Me Mom     The clock is ticking and I can hear it. The silence is peaceful and calm. This is a rare occasion and I revere it. But I truly cherish the little ones who call me mom.   I love the sweetness and innocence. I love the laughter and giggles. I love the learning of words and cents. I love the dances and body wiggles.   I love the dimples that come with smiles. I love the little body dressed up for ballet. I love the sound effect and dinosaur piles. I love the kicks and pushes from my belly each day.   I love the sponge minds that soak up what I teach. I love the desire for worksheets and coloring. I love to see where their imagination can reach. I love to read and discover and all the exploring.   I thought when they were babies,  I’d miss them that way. But now that they are children, I pray “this way, forever stay”   But I embrace the upcoming, I know we will be just fine. They may not be as forthcoming, Ye...

Minister   I read the passages in scripture about Christ ministering I think about how I am broken like a violin string I think about how all us humans are hurt incessantly The hurt of racism, criticism, and jealousy The hurt of comparison, perfectionism, and you “should be” The hurt of abuse: physically, mentally or emotionally  The hurt of loss, and of physical pains Negative forces of the world spill on us stains No one is free of any hurt, no one is free of needs Christ stopped people on the road, for them he did deeds But I believe just with His presence he fills in the gaps Just in His love He can heal our life’s hurts and traps His love can make us feel whole, nothing wanting No more questioning of ourselves, no doom daunting  His awareness of us helps Him know how He understands if we need love and affection now He knows if we need a place to rest and food for our belly He knows we desire abundance of love and comfort indefinitely We live in a world that scares us...

This is the poem I wrote and recited with my sister, Summer, at my mother's funeral. Her passing was so difficult, but writing down my feelings and focusing on what I want to feel and think (And how I imagine she wants me to think and feel), is what helped me through it. Thinking about what my mother would want from us who remained, is where this poem came from. Enjoy the sorrow yet joy of loving and missing a loved one passed.                                                           What I Want Think of me when the weather changes and fall comes on. Think of me when the cool breeze blows leaves across the lawn.   Feel me in the moments of hardship lifting you up. Feel me in the moments of joy that runneth over your cup.   Hear me when your child cries out in need for you. Hear my voice of gentleness and peace speaking through. ...

This poem was written from a place of motherhood/parenthood exhaustion, actually in the moment. The writing of the poem is what helped me in that moment. I look back at this poem now, and remember, oh yes, there were such struggles there that I have overcome and fogotten by now at this posting. "And it came to pass"...you hear in the scriptures, not "And it came to stay". Enjoy the rawness, the duality of love and joy with pain and suffering, having to coexist sometimes.  I look out this window, baby in hand And I see lights on houses but not in my land My land is barren now, I’m all empty I lost my fire somewhere between scarce and plenty My plenty was drunk up with screams and shouts My plenty went in and stayed, because it was never let out I thought I was doing just fine, I was basking in sunshine I used to love the sounds, I used to hug and kiss mine But now the pulses of sound send my heart racing Creating moments of anger, I’m resolving and erasing I’m still ...

Christmas Poem   The Spirit of Christmas is giving Christ is the gift I’m living It is no item, it is no jewel It is no game, nor tool It’s isn’t sitting under my tree It is never out of stock to me It is there always, in moon or sun Christ has come, His work is done This is the best gift there has ever been There’s more than what we’ve seen There’s more light and truth It doesn’t’ require any proof It’s our faith, our choices It’s who and what our voice is It is the only gift Christ wants in return That for Him we would truly yearn He comes to us in desperation So individually and for each generation He cares about the small things He cares of the woes our world brings He is healing and hope so bright He is like Christmas lights shining at night.  He is the universe, or the life force energy He is the feeling, the whispering, the spirituality He is the wisdom, the genius, the inspiration He is the grace, the Charity, the compassion  We are His, we are His favorite He giv...