deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Torch

The torch was passed to me.  
I ran as fast as I could into the elements.  
I felt the weight of what she carried  
and took it with me.  
I could feel the warmth left in the metal  
by her hands, transfer to my fingertips.  
It wasn't difficult to grasp, or  
to see through her hidden anguish.  
Through every mile traveled  
her soles were worn, her body torn  
and there was still a smile.  
She let go with some resistance  
but only because she had to,  
because in her was the desire to carry on  
if only she could, she would have  
--held on to it until the end.  
But now it was in my hands to finish.  
And so as I stand at the altar,  
I will not forget the women behind me  
Who passed the flame to get us this far.
Written by janiselizabeth (Janis Miller)
Published
Author's Note
With the exception of abusive partners, when we get married, behind us are people who loved and trialed and grew with our spouses or the people we are with, helping shape them into the person they are. We pass the torch to each other when we can no longer continue the race, sometimes by our choice, sometimes not. But rather than looking back at them with jealousy or insecurity, I see them as another runner in the race where I have been the one to take the torch and light the final cauldron. I have passed the torch to others as well. I am not a competitor, I am a team mate. Be a good team mate. Don’t abuse your partner for another woman to have to carry heavier baggage.
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