In, “Selfhood Rebirth Poem,” yesterday was a day for Bianca, in teaching history, in teaching selfhood and having pride in our past. To the guidance in the growing up and being able to fend for oneself.
In, “Selfhood Rebirth Poem,” I want every day to give her something that will help her be a young lady of substance. One who knows how to keep her house, to cook, to bake, to wash her clothes. Beyond that too, a sense of pride in herself that grows from confidence. To explore, but to be able to speak wisely, in this, yes, it takes time. But, I want her to be able to walk freely and know all these things that are essential to life.
165 pieces of inspirational urban acrostic, cinquain, free verse, haiku, tanka, and much more.
Selfhood Rebirth Poem
Bianca stirred clumps of cookie dough in
a silver bowl until they turned crystalline and burdensome under
kitchen lights, bouncing off stainless like the
shimmering stars of night, the bursting flares of it
shattered in blackness, a New Year’s celebration
of sweetening candy, baked ham, legends of red poinsettias
unveiled under a new indigo moon.
Bianca rolled small spheres in the warm place between
palms and fingertips and I watch her and remember
myself, at the soft age of ten, was taller.
Her frame petite, and cheeks of a dainty pink rose,
hair cropped at the shoulders, had a life of its own,
every curl bouncing with laughter and delight. Perhaps this
means the world will be hers to yield, strong-willed, yet foolish.
Yet to surrender. But still, Bianca is a beautiful soul,
lovely really meaning an innocent, untainted pink rose,
someone who doesn’t fear to reach for the scorching sun.
Days apart from yesterday, she was just a baby,
unable to speak words, still helpless to give an
audible song. Today is colorful. She creates for me
circular crumbling, sweeten snickerdoodles of happiness
Where girls her age engulfed in mind-boggling video games,
the colors lost New Years bleed out by hours,
Their bodies, a mold in couches. But today, I smile wide
with adoration at the clumps of granules scattered
across countertops and floor, I tell her how
Baking was the only testament to being a woman’s foundation. But
now, these cookies are our history rebirthed, and in it,
We are resurrected, one by one; foolish daughters, older
mothers, and hope for another New Year.
©2018 Linda J. Wolff (Google), and “Selfhood Rebirth Poem.”
LINDA J. WOLFF (WOLFF POETRY) lives in Washington. She’s currently the editor of online journal Wolff Poetry and resource site for beginning writers. Her work published in an eBook Urban Pen; Poetic Writings of Linda J. Wolff on Amazon, Barn & Noble, and Goodreads. She’s received “Top 25 Poetry Blog of the Net,” and her poetry journal was used as a “Scientific Experiment” by the data team & company Automattic that owns (WordPress).
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