This week's challenge was to write in a different genre than our usual. I tried my hand at a little fiction and felt like it stank, so I switched to poetry. Disclaimer (out of my extreme discomfort...challenge fulfilled): I know nothing about poetry.
Ancient stones form ancient walls
Unique yet perfectly matched
Different in shape, origin
Gathered and pieced to produce a whole
As all things can be made
From pieces misshapen, mistaken
For rubble, yet perfect for this place
Vision that looks past what is visible
There were four, then five
One can bring immense change
Not the plan
Four to six and not from within
Was the plan
But the fifth interrupted
Changed the plan
Five to seven?...scary
We are those things
How much do we promise to us?
How much of us can we give
And still be the us we had to give?
Open the doors, share empty beds...easy
There is a truth in this
Blending a family with colors already born
From within the skin to without
Flavors that had already found each other
Mixing deeper into daily life
Life lived on this soil, in this air, pulsing with this culture
Love pulling closer than ever
Not just for now, forever
What would they choose
If they knew?
It’s not theirs to choose,
Others force their circumstances.
It’s mine to decide
Can I commit to this?
To everything it costs?
When others must also pay?