As Nature Calls

One mom's call to the wild.

 By Bobbi Miller-Moro

What happened to the mist slowly creeping over the cliff, rolling onto the water? What happened to me being there to witness that? I look outside my window, the bright, crisp sky touching the mountains with playful curiosity. The white clouds bouncing over my head-through my window they call for me. They are peace and timeless. The sun shining in all her brilliance is taunting me, playfully teasing me to join her, her heat melting into my wanting pores. But, I do not move from my chair.

 

Cartoons blare into my background, and I realize my keyboard is my paddle to the shores I am rushing faster and faster to get to. If it sells, if they buy it, If we have enough, if I can afford, If the babysitter is affordable now, If help exists for us-then maybe….

Author's Note

As a writer and artist, Bobbi created herself in an image she was only dreaming about.

Reviews

[fireblossom]

I wondered, "Okay but can she write?" Ummmm, yes she can.

This prose poem expresses wistful longing. We are artists and writers at our core. Life and the responsibilities it brings dictates from where we create. Children, business, mate and extended family all press in and demand time that may have at one time gone toward self-discovery.

I appreciate the contrast you developed ... sea, clouds, mist vs cartoons, chair and computer

Well written Bobbi.

[Wildecat]

This is a beautiful poem, the picture made it even better, nice write.

[Jenna Cowles-Ludwig]

I like this poem, Bobbi...I can relate!

Jenna