My home is finally healing
My husband is gaining strength
I am managing my worry
My son is playing sports
And going to science camps
And reading books every night
My job seems stable enough
There is something new every day
And big new things to learn
I have a nice circle of friends
Most known for some time now
We forgive our weaknesses
I like my clothes and my things
My house and yard
My car and my little kitty cat
But I have big dreams, too
And enough freedom to wish
To follow my wildest visions
But these visions are in turmoil
First one, then the next
Ones decades old, others fresh
They linger in my mind
As I work my way through the day
Waiting for the time
When I can rendezvous
My fingers with the words
Where they become real
But they are never as real
As my son and my husband
And my cat and my work
And that is why I’m not “a writer”
Just a person who writes
Important, but not the most
That is a lie
It is the most important thing
And I can’t reconcile it at all