The other day, my mom asked if she might use a poem I wrote for a devotional she presented when she started as a trustee for our alma mater. I said, of course. After all, I had written it at her request. But, the title she mentioned, which did sound familiar, was for a poem I didn’t remember.
I searched my computer using the title. Along with the image for this blog series, I found a poem with the same title. When I asked if the year made sense, she said it did. I realized it was saved in a folder created for that year. I opened the folder. There it was.
The only poem I had written in 2013.
Only one poem? Had I written nothing else? I suspect I must have. But, not poems.
I briefly recounted what I must have been doing around that time. Homeschooling. The boys would have been in grades 10, 8, and 5. I was in one of the densest times of our home education journey. Halfway in to halfway done.
Had I forgotten to write poetry? Probably not. I imagine there were many days I longed for a quiet moment to string some words together.
Apparently, I had at least one quiet moment and wrote a poem for my mother. The irony of the title speaks to my own state of existence at that time. The last line provides assurance. Yet, I did not know the significance of the last phrase and how the verse it represents would impact me two years later. How the title would become a series of blogs two years after that about my journey as a writer. How, when I read it again the other day, I would surprise myself.
Categories: Between the Lines: This Writer's Journal
Book Reader and Reviewer
Labrador Retriever Owner
Mother of Three Boys
Quiet Moments (a rare commodity!)
Singer in Church Choir
Wife of My High School Sweetheart
Yarn-Lover (the wool kind and the story kind)