A New Creature
Two years after the rescue,
he is another creature.
There is no skulking, no hesitance,
there are colors and hues more vibrant
than anyone who saw him a mere two years ago
could have imagined.
He no longer crawls.
music blaring from his wings,
a phoenix created from a battered heart,
not by magic,
but by the simple act of acceptance.
About this poem
My son leaves in a few weeks for college. People who have seen his journey over the past couple of years since he fled Virginia to come here comment all the time about how far he has come, about how lively, smart, funny, caring, how alive he is compared to the frightened, hesitant kid that I brought to my house less than two years ago.
I get very similar comments about my daughter, who moved up here, in a similar situation and similarly broken-spirited a few years earlier. Who has finished college with a stack of leadership awards, and who is making a life that is uniquely hers.
“What did you do?” people ask me, as if there is some magic formula.
I accepted them. I loved them. Just that. No secret. I didn’t push them to rise. I allowed them to rise. No more. No less. It’s amazing what happens when people feel accepted, and feel loved without conditions. They become…. themselves.
And mostly, that’s something glorious.