I am a Mother and I Love to Read

I had trouble coming up with ideas today, so I searched for poetry prompts and found the "I AM" prompt. I've actually done this prompt before (I can't remember if it was in high school or college), but I want to do it again because life changes so much through the years. Click on this link for reference to the "I AM" poetry prompt.

I am a Mother and I Love to Read

By Candace Shultz

I am a mother and I love to read.
I wonder what my life would be like if I were another person.
I hear the voices of strangers who know me.
I see tigers in my past, present, and future.
I want to be content in my own body.
I am a mother and I love to read.

I pretend to be a giant stuffed caterpillar giving kisses to my giggling baby.
I feel her arms around my neck and her sloppy kisses on my cheek.
I touch my husband's hands as he holds me in my sleep.

I worry every time my baby falls.
I cry when my husband has to leave on deployment.
I am a mother and I love to read.

I understand that no one is perfect.
I say that God is real.
I dream of becoming a published writer.
I try to clean the house, I really do.
I hope that I don't screw up my daughter.
I am a mother and I love to read.

Here is the poem I wrote years ago based on this same prompt.

“I Am”

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.

I am worried, yet carefree.

I wonder if my grandfather looks down on me from heaven, his eyes bright with encouragement.

I hear the soft whispering of delicate leaves as the wind tickles the trees.

I see a horse running through the trees towards freedom.

I want to run my fingers along the rough, ancient buildings of Italy and to sink my toes in the sandy beach.

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.

I pretend that the world is beautiful without horrors and pain.

I feel that everyone has hope and can achieve their dreams.

I touch puffy clouds that disappear in my hand.

I worry about everything.

I cry when I lose a friend.

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.

I understand that life is not fair.

I say that we should not give up anyway.

I dream that I am happy in my future.

I try to do the best that I can do.

I hope that my smile and kindness affects at least one person who will then give happiness to others.

I am a young woman reaching my ink-stained fingertips to touch a lonely, bright star in the soft, dark sky.