Every now and again, I revisit my old poetry. You know, those poems that had meaning and good bones but didn’t quite fit. Here is a new attempt with some old friends:
Far beyond any possibility of the day believing in me
I am too close to dawn breaking for a new beginning
I’ll be better later
I’ll know more tomorrow.
Then, I think I’ll be whole.
I’ve found so many pieces of myself
In improbable places
Mysterious faces
Mother and Father, though I never knew them by name.
They were never hero, or friend, or even foe
They were fallible.
I cannot be at peace with so many pieces.
Some parts of me are whole-
Other parts are sewn together
It’s as noticeable as black thread on white cloth
Hidden in a soul I can’t quite remember
It is also commendable
Unforgettable
Wrapping myself up with whispered fury
Muttering past remembrances.
Days can lean on me
Just like nights deceived me
Will it all come together,
Or will it break again at dawn
Jennifer Barajas
A Dead Language 