A Matter of Pride

My days are now boring, unexciting.

I wake up, treadmill, coffee, work, and mom.

There is no marching here, no cheering there.

I long to do something more colorful.

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The computer boots up five days a week.

Responding to emails with “kind regards”.

Is there even a mere moment of pride

if I fear the backlash of daily life?

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Intermittent texts to friends; checking in.

Each keystroke sends an outpouring of love.

Feelings of displacement from my beliefs.

Still, I don’t belong with those who live proud.

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After school pickup, appointments, then home.

Homework, feed the cats, clean, time to go now.

Not an empty hanger, no shelves, or shoes.

This room is not confined, but not open.

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Now practice is done, dinner is ready.

The bathtub is filling and I’m so tired.

My path is a straight line, but I am called.

My faith is solid, and yet I am called.

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My nights, as expected, are tedious,

With goodnight kisses and sweet dream wishes.

I long to hold each of you in my arms;

to give you the gift of a parent’s heart.

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Who am I to share in your life of pride?

A believer and friend, called to embrace.