By Julia W. Prentice
Help me to destroy
This origami prison box
Of folded yesterdays
The bars paper-thin
Almost made of moonbeams
Yet they hold me captive
Girded only with the robe
Of today’s truth and
Deep desire for
Tomorrows without creases
Stepping through
A gentle push from you
And your hand at my back
From moonbeam bars unbent
Origami shreds
Colored gold and blood-red
Are all that’s left behind
Julia W. Prentice is a deeply feeling Cancer. She has been writing since her teenage years, is the mother of three sons, has successful careers in teaching children, interpretation in sign language and assisting persons with mental health challenges to find their own paths to recovery, through sharing her own journey. Living with her love and partner of over forty years has brought contentment and much fulfillment. She writes like she breathes: incessantly, some in ragged gasps, some in whispering sighs, some in mighty shouts. Always she is driven to write. Recently after taking a women’s online writing course she has heard the universe telling her to share her writings.
Photo: (source)
Editor: Dana Gornall
Comments
- Sitting Down with Ethan Nichtern about Confidence and His Latest Book - September 20, 2024
- Starting the Day with Ritual - September 12, 2024
- The Tattooed Buddha Meets with Claire Parsons: Writer, Lawyer, Blogger and Mom - September 4, 2024