deepundergroundpoetry.com
multi-hued memories
angel wings spread above us
silent guardians in glimmering hover
benevolent gaze steady upon their flock
stained glass manifestations
brilliantly fragmented
as sun shone through their panes
once a week there I was
feeling special just to be in their presence
blessed by the mere touch
of warm rays caressing my face
like the fingers of a loving god
I remember tracing intricate patterns in the wood
one thumbnail following a crack in the grain
small feet dangling free
well above carpet worn thin by prayer-bent knees
little silver buckles biting with each gentle swing
the pinching pull of tender flesh
where skirts didn't quite cover my thighs
and the drone in the pulpit going on and on
mother's hand vice-gripping my leg
if I so much as looked like I might move
as I fought to be still
silent
not my strongest virtues
like a roving river in constant motion
my tiny body forever moving
{only ever bound by society's constraints}
reverence was expected
and I was the wild child
unearthly & uncommon
always humming softly beneath my breath
twitchy & touchy
sensitive to textures & moods
never quite understood
truly, a bit of a conundrum
the unnatural kid with too many questions
and quite a fervent imagination
{a world in which I preferred to spend all my time}
stood failingly in comparison
side by side all the other children sitting quietly
the epitome of perfection
little girls with their beautiful curls & immaculate dresses
never heard
only seen
{but if they don't hear you
are you really there...
just a thought}
and then there was me
the outcast leaf on the family tree
always rumpled & disheveled
because movement was part of my being
never quite able to make a full connection
only slightly
around the edges
but today I think of that pew
all those hours spent trying to conform
doing my best to please & fit in
and here I am
no longer trying...
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