Poems of the Month

One Leg at a Time

(By Katie Roberta Stevens)

“I wish I could love you the way I love my dog”

These are the intimate conversations my husband and I log

After all, I’m damaged goods trapped behind my graffiti wall

No human being has run to chase my tangled heartstring ball

And no matter how my committed hubby has taken his turn

Nothing human seems able to make my heartlight burn

It’s true he has tried licking me from toe to face

But his tongue lacks the warmth, loyalty, sweetness and grace

Of the heating pad Westie that slept near the small of my back

All night warning the man, come closer and she’d attack

Hubby asks “Is that you baby,” when I burst through the door

But there’s no snorting, tummy-up, back-wriggling on floor

Now and then, he may have watched TV with head on my lap

But never the same humming snores, snout on neck, content nap

No matter what my failures, little Sophie would mutely say

"You’re the best thing God created.  Your presence makes my day"

But, just like that my pup has died.

Again, life confirms that loved means cried.

My once glowing heart light is black and dim.

I crawl back to safety alone within.

Maybe, I’ll stop blaming my husband for what's not his crime

I shift closer in bed, reach out fearful, one leg at a time

He’s warm and fuzzy, too, I guess-- my heart light flickers

It’s not Sophie-bright yet, but dogs are better kissers.

Something powerful is awakening where she heated my chest

Could mid-life be my time to put puppy love to rest?

Of all of the challenges I faced so far

You, my lost, little Sophie have set the highest bar. 

Even though my back is cold where you once did sleep

You taught me that love is mine to savor, but not to keep.

Good girl.

Father of the Bride

(By Katie Roberta Stevens)

My daughter was so much different at five

As if the blurred memory was of another life

“Be my pony, Daddy,” she would plead

And I’d get down on my hands and knees

She climbed aboard without fear or doubt

And I would flatten by broad back out

I’d wait until she got herself steady

And peer over my shoulder and ask, “Ready?"

She giggled and replied, “Ready, Dad!”

I tell you, it was the best fun we ever had.

Sometimes I got a bit carried away

I would buck, then trot, and go astray

She’d tumble off and my heart would stop

Until she'd laugh--then up she’d pop

“Ready? Honey,” I asked one more time

“Ready, Daddy,” she always knew her line.

Today, the two of us stand shoulder to shoulder

Where was I when she got so much older?

She's a stunning portrait of white as the bride

And it’s time, now, for me to take her side

My hand trembles as we entwine arms

Who, now, will keep my girl from harm?

Once again, she waits for me to get steady.

She turns, smiles, and says, “Dad, you ready?”

“Ready, Baby,” I echo her old familiar line

“Ready, Daddy,” she whispers, but it’s for the final time. 

 

The Dieter’s Prayer
(By Katie Roberta Stevens)

 

Let me offer a prayer of thanksgiving

For my womanly physique that grants me living

As a cherished particle of the universal whole

Let me protect this fragile urn that houses my soul

Beneath fleshy softness, I am the raging sea

Within me swirls a distinct universe that lets me be

How dare I weigh its worth by pounds on a scale?

I’m a prism of the divine, not chopped meat for sale

Let me leap and soar towards strength and health

Let this golden vessel become my singular measure of wealth

Help me nurture it, restore it, and treasure every finger and toe

And grasp tightly its secrets-- for only the deserving to know

Through daily rays of awareness, let it be crystal clear

That this sturdy anchor, my body, is all that secures me here

Let me offer a prayer of thanksgiving


As we age, we face shared overwhelming challenges.  I wrote this poem after having to make the decision to remove a dear friend from life support.  I hope it helps anyone facing a similar predicament.

My Apology
(By Katie Roberta Stevens)

When was I given the almighty power to disconnect a life with one wave of my hand?

When did a lowly soul like me get appointed to decide if someone is no longer a man?

When did it become evident that whether a person lives or dies is a choice?

When did the words of the creator get whispered in my ear and out my own voice?

When did I grow from a child who looked up with such love and admiration at this face?To become the protector and receiver of the bewildered, helpless eyes that somehow took its place?

I will tell you on what glorious day this miracle occurred; In fact, it was on the day that I was begun.During a glistening season of radiance that ensured there was a time for everything under the sun.

When the one who built me from scratch made certain that I was a loving soul

And put within me an innate understanding that a body does not make us whole;When the same power nourished me, until it was then my turn, to keep you safe from harm;

And gave me broad shoulders, muscled by life, to carry and provide safe passage to his loving arms

When he instilled the intellect and emotion and compassion to help me finally see

That sometimes the fight, the will, the interventions, were not so much for you, as for me;

Because despite all the gifts and powers and senses bequeathed to me at my human birth;

I was not given the foresight and selflessness to imagine daily living without you on my earth;

But prayerful reflection and a brilliant epiphany have helped me to finally know;

That I am just the Lord’s cherished vessel to be used to help you go.

Father, forgive me, now, for I know not what I do.

How dare I cry aloud when I am sending your child home to you?