I understand giving God His due
and putting Him first, in all that you do.
And Mama can not be forgotten,
I would never dream of demanding for me,
your precious time with her.
Brothers and cousins, have always been there.
My entrance into your picture has only seconds,
in the gran scheme, if measured.
Understandably, I patiently wait, to see if you dare.
And conclude, I am last in your pile full of cares.
You worry and fret and live in the past.
Claiming not to have felt God in a while.
Not once giving value to the blessings before you.
While you move me further down
on your list of insignificance.
The familiarity of dread seeping into my soul
is my trumpet and wake up call.
Take a deep breath.
You over played your hand.
God got this.
Interesting poem. There is a dichotomy of images that are placed in the mind here. I love the part where you address the level of importance placed on the narrator of the poem. I think it was well executed. In truth, it took me a second read to fully grasp where you were going with this, but I think I have a better understanding with the second reading. If I'm correct, the narrator is not asking to be first or most important, but she would like to rate high on the list, or at least high enough to be acknowledge in the grand scheme of another's existence. I agree the person the narrator is talking to overplayed their hand because if he/she would just look inside he/she will find that she/he would like the same from the narrator. Some of our feelings are not felt alone, many of them are felt in tandem with someone else. The narrator was just strong enough to put those words out into the ether, so they can be heard and felt. And trust me, I felt them. Thank you for the experience of your work. Keep Writing! Nell
ReplyDeleteThank you!!! Your critic of my work is so insightful and dead on!! Much Love!!! G.
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