Poetry

A while back I went for coffee with a friend and told her about how I wrote poetry to process my feelings (a mixture of rejection, spiritual devotion, and puppy love) throughout junior high. I shared with my coffee partner my prayer that God would reawaken the creativity in me. That night I went home and wrote my first poem in 15 years. (I let the hope in and all kinds of weird things can happen.) My prolifically poetic sister-in-law liked it, giving me the courage to finally share it with you. The setting is on the floor beside K.'s crib (circa 2001).
Or is it?



Now I lay me down

leaning on the bars
streaming through the tears
through the years
begging for forgiveness
from one who cannot speak
is asleep
not knowing that face
beautiful face
we face
Out-ism
in the morning he will climb over the bars
I will cry again
Loose sleep, lose hair, bow
free from but not for
what
now