Candles on an angel food cake huffed out without a song or birthday wish. I count thirty-three reasons why I’m here and swiftly brush away delinquent tear[i]. I select a long red licorice stick, contours smooth[ii]. How is it I was, too, three years hence, tall with experience[iii], proud of my place in this world[iv], ego soothed.
Full from melancholy and reflection[v], I reach for higher things[vi], but my lifelike the oboe must be meant for sadder songs[vii] whose notes enrich but lack direction[viii]. In a corner[ix] I sit like an awkward table with wobbly legs[x]. Backed up against opposite wall, everyone watches[xi] my wooden fate[xii]. One kind soul[xiii] asks if I recall[xiv] crush velvet purple folds,
layered dignity[xv], draped fabric of a stronger me born to rise above[xvi], that self who will not be cajoled[xvii]. I remember when and spiral spin[xviii] left then right. Taking the shape of a star, I lose my edges[xix], become burgeoning world of light. I explode[xx] through watery world of shadow[xxi], ancient intelligence[xxii] ready to be reborn in me. Dolphin gray[xxiii] matter[xxiv] meets soul[xxv]; merge to one. I fly to rainbow[xxvi].
Through translucent color I pass as wind that stirs[xxvii] rustling leaves that would rather sleep through golden day. I seek, then find[xxviii] last lonely leaf. Lifted, I dance[xxix], carried away[xxx] to wooden bridge that fords a mountain stream. Still in love[xxxi], I lay me down[xxxii], invite inhabitants of two worlds: “Come, cross my path that we might live our dream[xxxiii].
[i] Runaway grief flows on. [ii] Life has etched in me deep valleys, but faith has softened rough edges. [iii] I have lived and so have learned. [iv] Still, I have a place. [v] Sad remembrance deserves to be acknowledged. [vi] Hope insists that I stretch toward future. [vii] A “Happy Birthday” to offset the lower notes. [viii] Perhaps marking another year might remind me of my course. [ix] Celebration coaxes me from my right-angled comfort zone. [x] I stumble toward another year. [xi] The show must go on, after all. An audience demands it. [xii] Stiff now, yet one day I will rot. [xiii] A single soul has made the difference, called me forth from early grave. [xiv] In faint memory, I can see her – me that stands tall. [xv] Heartbreak wrapped in swaddling clothes. [xvi] I was birthed into this world for a purpose, to rise above the fray. [xvii] Jeers and jabs no longer sway me. [xviii] Energy converges and its centrifugal force awakens something in me. [xix] Change, the soul constant in my life. [xx] With a big bang I conclude this, my thirty-third orbit with good earth. [xxi] Shades of gray pose questions that must be answered. [xxii] Mysterious knowing stirs in me. [xxiii] Like graceful mammal of the sea, I dive and break through surface to find purpose. [xxiv] Molecules make a masterpiece that morphs into something more than body. [xxv] Invisible yearning for heaven’s home yields its desire for greater good. [xxvi] Propelled toward hope, I become spectrum of possibility. [xxvii] Unable to remain stuck and still, soul stirs world around me.[xxviii] There are things to look for in this life. [xxix] No ballerina, yet I move to nature’s rhythm that says it is not time to die. [xxx] God has carried me this far and still I drift in safety of God’s care. [xxxi] You know you are why I am here, why I must go on sans fear. [xxxii] At rest in love’s requisite belief, I mark the time, wait for your crossing. [xxxiii] Faith, hope and love... these three remain.
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
Sherlyn Powell opens up about her love and devotion to her family and the overwhelming repercussion when communication breaks down. Heartbroken and distraught she learns to release her prayer and realize with faith God would reunite her family.
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