The memory of her illness
came up suddenly
rendered it current
like a piece of sharp-edged
driftwood buried in the sand
discovered by bare feet
after low tide–a painful surprise

When the bleeding ceased
the bruise lingered
She pushed the driftwood
into shadows at the back of a shelf
because she knew
there was a beauty there
somewhere to be found in time

And now, years forward
dusted off memories surface
memories of time spent
hurting in bed with nothing certain
of the future and temptations
to despair. She’d survived
found ways to heal and strengthen

And though she’s chosen to
leave the past unspoken
today she chooses to unveil it
for a while, touch its driftwood texture
notice its soft curves, the depth of its grain
and the places where smoothness
outshines the jagged memories of pain


About geniecan

Born and raised in " America's finest City" received BS degree in nursing years ago... main career besides wife and motherhood ( and now a grandma)was as a hospice RN for 18 years...Take great joy in finding the good in all things and believing that " No Thing is Ordinary" the title of my blog. I am working on a children's picture book story named R-Qu.. a rock falls of his mountain. Writing poetry is one of my happiest things to do. Yoga, water aerobics,, gym exercise and walking our wheaton terrior, Finley, with my husband Jim are favorite things...oh yes...singing in the choir at Church and recognizing God as #1... are most important... I also have a home based business with magnetic and far intra red health care products..peace to all who read this, Love, Jeane
This entry was posted in inspirational, musings, poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Driftwood

  1. Beauty does seem to linger in the back of the shelf, doesn’t it.

  2. geniecan says:

    yes…until we are ready to really see it Have a nice day (-; thx for comment

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