The Same

A Poem

The energy and joy I once had for this seems to have deflated like a day old balloon,

once we might have felt like Belles of the Ball now we feel like dwarfs again, carrying things, cleaning, dirty from the mines

I look for the inspiration in nature, in books, in my kitchen, in the dirt and it seems meager, wanting, pitiful, distraught —

my words ring hollow to even my own ears now, once they flowed like water, like honey, like a winding road, like lava —

now they are stunted, uncertain, seeking approval daily — change is constant they say,

and yet here I grasp, here I wake, too early, too early searching for something,

this one thing, to just let me keep it the same.

Author’s note: So much of life is change. I am going through a few of them at the moment. I wonder why one thing cannot stay the same, or wait it’s turn, just until I finish reeling from, getting through, surviving the other changes and challenges and hurts and troubles. I wait. I write. But writing feels sort of sapped from the joy it used to bring just last week. I suppose anxiety, or worry, or stress, can do this to us. Finding joy where we used to find joy is something that gets put on hold if we are in a struggle, a fight or flight. I am, of course, going to keep at it. Keep writing, keep trying to hold on to, save, rekindle, protect my joy. Thank you.

Jenny Justice is a poet mom who longs to bring poetry to life in ways that spark empathy, connection, joy, and feeling. You can follow her on Medium and at Jenny Justice, Writer. You can follow her poetry at Justice Poetic.