He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
By William Butler Yeats
Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
For years and years I have loved poetry. I love to read it. I love to interpret it. I love to write it. Poems can bring out so much. They can open up emotional barriers, tear down guarded walls. Poems can leave you raw and renewed. Maybe it's because I have an English degree. Poetry has always been an escape for me. A way to release what is inside so it doesn't continue to bring me down.
Right now I feel lost. I feel a bit helpless. I feel scared. I feel angry and certainly a bit bitter. I feel like my dreams are slipping away and I feel unsure how to hold onto them. I can't simply cast them aside and forget. The last almost 2 and a half years DID happen. Infertility happened to me. I had a baby who was all mine and went to heaven all too soon. I can't forget. I will never forget... but how do I move on? How do I go forward with this surgery? I won't be a mother until I'm nearly 30... that wasn't my plan, my dream. How did things get so messed up? Sure, I have a good life. I have a good husband, a good house, enough money. I don't really want for anything save a child of my very own. I just don't know how to shelve my dreams and watch them come true for others, knowing that I can't even TRY.
Now I feel like I'm rambling so I'll bring this to a close... Thank you to all of you that have/do support me. I don't know where I would be without you and your words of encouragement and understanding. <3