by Andrea Reitman

Photo by danishkhan/iStockphoto

I was born a block of wood
Smooth and unprofaned
With Mother’s love
And Daddy’s care
The wood could not remain.

Life’s daily pain
And cold distain
Changed the wood again
It slashed and scarred
And burned so far
The wood would not remain

The wood is strong
Etched with charm
For life has weathered it well
The strokes of time have helped survive
The wood has carved a girl

Strong, scarred, and beautiful
The pain of life does tell
For all its strife
The hurts in life
Has served the block so well

The girl is not just flesh and bone
The wood is now a jewel
For toil in life
Untendered with vice
Has made the girl
A pearl

Lindamichellebaron Says…

The poet evokes a striking image of myriad forces that act upon us to shape our substance and our fate.