This
poem, like many in the folder I call, "Time of Innocence", was inspired by my
idyllic childhood...
That was a time like no other, when things seemed so clear, so
simple. I was going through a very rough time and once again, the beautiful
memories of my wild childhood came to my rescue, helping me to realize that I
could relive those feelings of clarity and simplicity, at will. What a treasure
it is to be able to close my eyes and go to a safe place where all things
become clear and timeless.
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| Photography by Elena Shumilova |
ODYSSEY
by Linda Whitlow
Eerie
echoes carry
through
the cool morning mists,
early
early morning mists;
Nameless
birds, familiar call
sound
their courtship or
sing for sheer joy.
Joy
greets me then
in
the early morning mists,
rolls
up the wide, brown river
towards me,
washes
over me
swallowing
whole the forest;
only
the birds’ encore escaping
in an incessant tide.
Fragile,
yellow beams of promise
nudge
through the mists,
playing
on the calm
surface
of the water;
Ghostly
dark shapes
gently
illuminated by approaching dawn
become
boundless waves
of
a green canopy,
virgin rain forest
of my youth:
when
vision was clear
and unspoiled;
thoughts
were simple
and innocent;
days
were transparent
and easy;
life
was effortless
and tangible;
questions
were rare,
answers plentiful.
so
far upriver
in the cool morning mists
that
I might have forgotten
the way back -
But
I followed the call
of
the Nameless birds
who sang for sheer joy,
to
the edge of the world
and back again.
Now
things aren’t so clear
as in the cool morning
mists;
my
nights are too long,
my
days too uncertain;
questions are many and
answers are
few.
Oh,
to be a child again.
~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~
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| Photography by Elena Shumilova |
Linda Whitlow: I live in Portland,
Oregon and I’m a poet, personal historian, champion of the underdog and have
more recently realized that I’ve always been a feminist without a label. I’m
allergic to labels as it turns out. I’ve been writing poetry since I was a
teen, which was a long, long time ago, and to grasp much of my poetry it’s
essential to understand my upbringing. I was a missionary’s child from the age
of five until sixteen. I grew up running wild, barefoot, swimming naked and
carefree in the interior rain forest of Borneo and later on, riding covertly
borrowed horses and cavorting on my own a lot, all around San José, Costa Rica
and Mexico City…a true Global Nomad. Upon returning to the U.S. to finish my
last year in a public high school in California, I felt lost. That’s putting it
mildly; it has taken me all my life to acculturate. I wasn’t comfortable in my
parent’s culture; I didn’t understand the teenage ‘lingo’ or the music, the
dancing, hair styles, cultural norms. I was blonde, blue-eyed, white-skinned,
so I looked like most of my peers in those days, but I was brown inside…and I
think I still am. I grew up wishing I could be brown and beautiful like
everyone else. So that’s me, for starters. My marriage was far from idyllic,
but it gave me four truly exceptional children who today, carry on my overriding
love and delight in diversity. My degree is in Spanish & Latin American literature and
culture, and most of my working years were spent in maternal and child health
at a community health center, serving the underserved and teaching health,
birthing and breastfeeding classes in my ‘native’ Spanish. I’m a retired, nasty
woman now, who curses, drinks, parties and dances far too much. I spend summers
kayaking, hiking and swimming with grandkids, and winters in deep, mysterious
conversations with other old crones and young sirens who are my preferred
companions these days. I’ve written poetry for nearly 50 years, but it was all
so personal, so private that I never felt I could share until now. Now, I’m
older, wiser, and I don’t care what people think of me any longer. Thank
heavens for that! In between poetry inspirations, I paint, and I am
transcribing hundreds of 100 year-old letters between my grandparents before,
during and after World War 1, left in my keeping - with the goal of publishing
a personal history, love story, patriot memoir in the next year. I also teach
Zumba fitness at my neighborhood LGBTQ center, to older and deconditioned
adults and those with mobility restrictions, which keeps me in shape. I find myself spending more and more time reading the
writings of wise women, searching women, enlightened and desperate women. I
find myself enjoying my own company far too much, but realize the solitary
nature of writing, painting and discovering my purpose in this world. So be it…I’m
getting there. You may e-mail me, if you wish here: sanctuarynaturals@gmail.com
~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~
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