I am awake, alive, tingling with the excitement of a new day.
I wonder, what will I accomplish?
I hear voices chattering, “Good morning, Mama!”
Barely touching the floor as they scamper around the kitchen, I see pajama-clad feet.
I want to gather up my babies, and keep them this age forever.
I am in love.
As I shower, water spraying on my face, I pretend I am a writer as ideas fly into my head.
I feel those ideas fluttering around me as beautiful glimpses of what could be.
I touch the edges of their wings, trying to tie them down.
Yet there is no pinning them to my paper. I cry with frustration.
I am bogged down by the letters, the words, the language that is inadequate to tell you how I feel.
I worry: will you understand?
I understand how little I know; how life is but a journey. And so I keep on, the constant traveler.
I say what I believe to be true. I adjust my thoughts to new ideas and new truths.
I dream to inspire.
I try to spread the love of the journey, the love of learning.
And I hope that someday, you and I will fly.
I am mother, writer, teacher.
Join in the Writing Me III project at Bigger Picture Blogs, and write your own “I Am” poem!
Who are you?