Reflecting on My Metaphor

i am a typewriter and someone else is pressing the keys

i am a match that won’t light

i am yarn, frayed and unraveling

i am glue that never dries

i am words written backwards

i am a stone that can’t skip

i am lukewarm coffee

i am a pen out of ink

i am an empty spool of thread

i am a threadbare sweater

i am a left sock without a right

i am a flower, always wilting

i am written in an unspoken language

i am all consonants and no vowels

i am a broken vase, not yet mended with gold

i am a butterfly with broken wings

i am an owl without voice

i am loaded scales with no counter weights

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Wor(l)d Traveler (Everyday Inspiration, Day 16)

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A mother’s soul is complex and beautiful. A mother’s mind is scattered and loving. I want my children to know they were loved and cherished. To have the memory of a mother’s voice sung and words read and rhymed. I hope they will feel it was soup for the soul. This mother’s heart aches when she has a traveler’s soul and the love for a land she’s never been. But she wouldn’t dare leave while these children need her the same way they need water and food. She will stay for them because they’ve got memories like elephants and she wouldn’t want any bit of them to be sour. The youngest, his name has four letters; the oldest, his has five. When she speaks of them, she speaks of love.