This is another post for Story 101. This week we were asked to step OUT of our comfort zone. Ummmmmm I freaked out a little. Mostly because I like to think of my writing as safe and comfortable here in my little corner. Where I can be my real raw self and write about my real life. Somewhere deep within me though there is a writer spirit longing to be set free, to write more than just real life. To write poems, stories and GASP a novel.
Here is my first out of the pretty, pink safe little box piece I wrote. It came from the depths of love for my sweet Abigail. If you know her or have even heard one story than you will know how true this is.
Brown curls dancing around her face
Like those of a spirit that knows she’s free
Big eyes, full of wonder
Darting here
Glancing there
She rarely slows
No, there is too much to do
To see
To be felt and taken in
Stories to be told
An imagination that becomes real
It’s like watching a fireworks show as her mind bounces
From ponies to mermaids to lost abandoned babies that need a home
Then, like gasoline on a fire
It becomes too much for her
“Mommy I’m scared. “ She says
As she presses her head into my chest
Her warm breath on my skin suddenly takes me back
Tiny fingers
Toes pushed through the holes in her bright purple baby blanket, which is now faded and worn from love
She hungers for the nourishment my body was created to supply for her.
I glance at her now, all of seven years old
Tall enough that she rests right under my breasts
In an instant I miss those moments
Her, on my breast
The intimacy of the God given mother daughter connection
Skin to skin
Quiet
Sacred, silence
The darkened middle of the night moments
Sheer exhaustion, pulling her into bed with me
Holding her close
Drifting back to sleep
Breathing in her heavenly baby scent
I did not know then, as those moments were passing by
To capture them
Hold them
Remember her scent
Her skin
The connection
Her need for me
For nourishment
Now she has a lioness spirit
A ROAR for freedom within her own aching heart
Bouncing curls
Darting eyes
Glorious, Holy like imagination
Our spirits connected through the Creator
Though she longs to be free
And I long to hold on
We are still one
United in Christ
My daughter
Flesh of my flesh
Spirit of my spirit
My little lioness
“And though she be but little, she is fierce”
~William Shakespeare~
Bethany G. Paget 
July 16, 2013 at 4:15 pm
Why do you always, always have to make me cry! 🙂
Holy light-bringers! I wish we were neighbors and our daughters were best of friends. Truly!
July 17, 2013 at 4:19 pm
Wasn’t it yo who posted on twitter about your daughter wanting to be friends with everyone? My Abigail is the same way. I love how kids just make friends so quick “Oh mommy meet my new BFF.” At the park that we have been at for 10 minutes.
But yes, I wish we were neighbors and our daughters were friends and we could sit on the porch, drink coffee, write our novels and talk about Jesus 😉
Oh and make EACH OTHER cry!
November 9, 2013 at 6:17 am
This poem makes my heart beat faster – so much of Her heart here… even as you describe the tender love you have for your daughter, I also pictured you as the little 7-year old and how our Creator who is described as the “many-breasted one” in at least one passage of Scripture, loves to tenderly hold and nurse us. Another passage speaks of His heart just as you’ve passionately described here… “Can a mother forget the child nursing at her breast?” As if that could be possible, he seems to say… and in the same way He cannot stop looking tenderly at our face. Face-to-face, like that intimate connection between mother and daughter.
I love your poem, Bethany, and thank you for sharing this tender moment with your daughter. I’m on my way to see my daughters and granddaughters at this moment and all I can think of is holding them against my bosom. I want to somehow give them that incredible spiritual exchange of strength… to take away all their fear and pain… to scoop them up to a higher place, a place of purity and love. My oldest granddaughter is 9-years old and my youngest grand is 2-years old. When it’s all said and done, this is what we have and nothing else: Love. And there is not greater love than a mother’s love, I believe. Along with my daughters and granddaughters we will meet up with my mom and sisters and nieces. And all I can think is of this fierce lioness love – this brave love, this wild strength and courage we share as sisters in this world. Blood relations or spirit.
Your words breathe life into me, Bethany, and I pray you receive life and more life as you continue to open this window into your precious and tender soul. Bless you BIG today, Bethany, and your lioness daughter, as well!