The Prodigal Daughter

The Prodigal Daughter

Thanks to a class offered by a

soft spoken South American professor

who preaches the gospel of creativity

I am whole again.

Seeking the power of steel beams and girders

I had tossed my Muse (my dearest friend) into the sea.

I needed muscle

not watercolor dreams leading nowhere.

I learned to weld and solder

to read blueprints and gauge distances

to hammer and sweat in the sun

until mine was as big as his.

I forgot how to cry.

Finally one say in class (for three credits)

I walked alone across the bridge that

I had built with my own two hands and

found my Muse waiting there

like an indulgent mother

for me to call her name.

Now words and colors and images

leap and dance before my eyes

and I paint golden wildflowers on my bridge

and I sing purple poems

and my tears fall freely now

because I have come home again,

transformed.

It is indeed a form of prayer.

 

by Pyschscribe copyright 2008

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4 Responses to “The Prodigal Daughter”

  1. OrSoSheSaid Says:

    I like it all, but these lines ring so so true for me:

    Now words and colors and images

    leap and dance before my eyes

    and I paint golden wildflowers on my bridge

    and I sing purple poems

    and my tears fall freely now

    because I have come home again,

    transformed.

  2. SanityFound Says:

    I really love the imagery you put forward in this poem, it is truly beautiful! Thanks for sharing!

  3. lirone Says:

    Lovely – sounds like an inspiring journey, which reminds me of how much I’m enjoying getting back to writing (I’ve written more poems in the last 6 weeks than the previous 6 years!). Such a precious gift to be able to write…

    I love the juxtaposition of the golden wildflowers and the purple poems!

    I also like the “(for three credits)” line – it highlights how huge the creative reward is compared to the credit reward!

  4. psychscribe Says:

    OrSoSheSaid, SanityFound, and lirone: Thank you so very very much for your kind words. It means so much to me that you liked my poem enough to take the time to comment as you did. Blessings to all of you, may you paint golden wildflowers and sing purple poems yourselves, in your own work! Pscyhscribe

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