Memos from the Middle

Smack-Dab in the Middle of Motherhood

The Silence of the Closet

I hear you most clearly
in the silence of the closet,
with door closed
and sun streaming in the window.
The heat melds me to purpose,
and I stoop to bended knees,
praying my soul’s freedom.

I see you most dearly
when the cacophony of chaos
is locked outside my dressing room.
Just me, my clothes, and my eyes
tightly shut
as I imagine your hands outstretched
toward mine.

I feel you most nearly
when the “no” of the world
merely amplifies your “yes”
and my conviction is rewarded.
All joy,
all peace,
all love I know
from the silence
of my closet.

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One thought on “The Silence of the Closet

  1. Damien on said:

    I love your poems. I have thoughts of what it is about but would rather talk to you about it

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