Snake-like tendrils stretch out,
Grasping for purchasing
Like hair in the wind
Yet strong, powerful
Intentional in their reach.
Feet firmly planted
Basking in the sun
Indifferent to the eyes
Watching in wonder
Unaware of the tension
Holding her in place.
A prisoner of her own strength
Held in place by tendrils of memory
Longing to let go yet
Afraid of the horror left
In the wake of her collapse
She stands tall, proud,
Hiding the cracks in her foundation.
So much of my poetry is steeped in the strength women are forced to demonstrate without a care for the repercussions of never having the opportunity to actually be soft and vulnerable. As I stood in the parking lot overlooking this beauty and reading the story of her creation, I felt the tension and the hidden cracks.
In case you didn’t know, this poem is part of a series of ekphrastic poems inspired by photos I’ve taken during various roadtrips with my mother. The trips began as a connection between us and a way to fulfill her bucket list of seeing all 50 states, and has turned into so much more. Please check out other poems in this blog, and feel free to subscribe to my newsletter for additional updates on all of my writing endeavors: https://bisabelwrites.com/newsletter-sign-up/