December 21, 2007

December 20, 2007

December 3, 2007

November 24, 2007

  • DELIBERATE BARRENNESS

    Yesterday’s post reminded me of a conversation I had with a young lady in my high school classes my second year of teaching (at a local Christian school). She declared that she didn’t ever want to have children because it would keep her from becoming who she really was. I wrote this poem after that conversation. It’s obviously not about people who can’t have children — that’s from God — but about those who can but refuse, for selfish reasons.

    Of Her Who Desired No Children

    Before my years could multiply,
    I chose to make their center me;
    I saw I might be hindered by
    My own fertility.

    I felt the rise within me and
    I knew I was a spring, and yet
    I wished to feel no demand
    From what I might beget.

    I stopped the flow; I’d be a spring
    Without it. Now I weep because
    I didn’t know I killed the thing
    That made me what I was.

    I cannot, now my years have fled,
    Say without tears, to any man,
    That I have been a riverbed|
    Where water never ran.

    A fountain, lying deep in dust;
    A channel by no current laved;
    A ground that gives no harvest, just
    The barrenness I’d craved.

    For years I kept me blind, nor knew
    What I had missed, or (what was worse)
    That I had fallen victim to
    My own eternal curse.

    –Wes Callihan
    May 1986