Poetry - Whatever is Mine

“I’m desperate for hardly anything really. I feel that whatever is mine is looking for me.” —Alice Walker⁣, said in interview with Charlie Rose.

 

Photo by Fuu J on Unsplash

Whatever is Mine 

by Marilyn R. Wilson

The woman stood teetering on the edge.

A chasm stretched before her.

She leaned dangerously forward searching

Trying to find the missing pieces.

Objects to fill her physical space.

Expected symbols of success.

All she felt were to be hers to own.

Sleepless nights held court as she schemed,

Followed by frantically driven days of pursuit.

Desire overwhelmed her, pressured her.

The label "having potential" defined her.

Potential implied she was not there yet,

Driving her to constantly reach ever higher.

She and her life needed to be perfection.

As the weight of need grew pound by pound,

As her shoulders sagged and back curved

Under the weight of desire and expectation,

The dream became tarnished. The goal died.

Mired in despair, she heard her heart’s whispers.

Steadily the voice grew ever louder and stronger.

It spoke a truth that caused the burden to fall away.

Wings that were her birthright stretched wide.

The sky above, filled with wispy clouds, called.

Powerful strokes lifted her quickly upward,

And from on high, her vision and focus cleared..

Below, searching for her, were all the missing pieces

That were hers to have and hold and enjoy.

Pieces the universe gifted her the day she arrived.

Relaxing into the joy of this knowledge,

She drifted down and began to build a new foundation

Then on it, a beautiful home with a door that invited.

Over the door hung a simple sign in reminder

Of her journey ahead full of promise and hope.

Six words echoing the truth no need to search. 

“Whatever is mine is looking for me."