Early Mother’s Day Poem
Growing up a Jehovah’s Witness, I didn’t celebrate the holidays, large or small. Not celebrating Christmas always got the most attention, along with Halloween, largely because of the outward display, but we didn’t observe the smaller ones either. But even though my relationship with my parents is rocky because I left the church, I still think about them, and I write about them, and to them in many ways. So here’s a poem I wrote to my mom about two and a half years ago. It addresses some of this stuff.
Sonnet for my mother, November 2005
Eleven years, more if you count
time between when I last cared
and when the elders found me out,
cast me out. My mom’s despair
comes in a card. Give yourself
another chance. She’s scared.
Tsunami, earthquake, hellish
war, great tribulation, all care
of Satan, signs of end times.
Two important dates she says
are in this month, your baptism
and your birth. I hope one day
she’ll see that even if she winds up right,
I’d never make it work in paradise.
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