12 Minutes

The weight of her past encumbers her goals.

Time moves on and moves slow.

The magnitude of the moment is now difficult to grasp.

Tracing her way back down a rooted path,

stumbling, losing her balance, 

and falling down an abyss

lined with images of people, deeds, and mistrust.

Continuing to fall back to the needle's point

where the tear began,

ripped wide with fear,

left with frayed edges that shattered her innocence.

"They're just children, you say.

Lack of guidance, an excuse

"Do no evil," forgotten

Torn apart again and again.

Now there are shreds of a girl 

who turns inward and grows small.

The weaver, now in her fifties,

after the moon, hears God's request

to go back and find the moment 

when she lost her true self.

The moment that fractured a most tender heart,

the kindest of beings, an easy smile and laugh.

She was poked and prodded 

to the point of giving up her morals.

The day opened the darkest door 

to a self-deprecating path.

At this age, she has come to the realization 

that it was an act of violation and not her fault. 

Grief came over her because she shaped her 

existence around that one traumatic assault.

The needle, now rusted 

with lack of use and poor storage,

will now attempt to weave back 

the worn blanket of her life

and mend a heart lost in embarrassment.

However, there is still time.

There is grace in the acts of years lost,

the growth of a soul that values 

forgiveness and love,

and a need to move on and 

learn from the guidance above.

To cherish that there is a reason

to preserve the child that was lost

for her young and their children to come.

So, she reclaims her luminosity, her wonder, and joy

by creating beauty, sharing wisdom,

and growing with her children, that teach her more.

She is molding new dreams,

knowing the edges will never be smooth again,

but the jagged thoughts have softened 

and her world is expanding within.

There are many more years and 

the light in her eyes is still bright,

knowing she deserves a great love

while dancing with the shadows of distant moonlight

and searching for a future that appreciates 

a beautiful kind heart.

By Daria Pardue