Up-rising

I haven’t written much of late

as I wait for the weather to change

and this heatwave to break.

The sweltering days have sapped my strength

and taken my words.

I haven’t written much of late

the weeks stretch long, 

the time I have is not my own–

as all is cancelled or postponed.

But if you’ve wondered where I am,

I’m here, putting out my all:
  I am my mother, grace under fire,

  I am my father, hard-worker, provider—

  I am the wall between storm and the sun
  the shield, the front line; I am the one.

  When this moment threatens to steal my soul

  to suck me dry from deep within,

  I plant myself firm ‘tween the rocks and the wind

  as the rebel inside of me rises again.

© Ginny Brannan 2020