The Crooked Tree

If I were on the hit list of a thousand and one marauders
If the lynch mob's torches burned for only me
'Twould be worth the saving of even one son or daughter
From the grasping, greedy clutches of their crooked family tree

-Micol Kraft Day

This poem is dedicated to all those in situations where the family, tribe, society, club or group has so oppressed and brainwashed them beyond their own wills that they don't even know that they are being used and abused.

I pray that you will look inside yourself and find the strength to break free. I also pray that those trapped into repeating the cycle themselves will seek help.

For those with knowledge of abuse, sticking your head in the sand is the coward's way out. If you know of it, report it. If you get nowhere with your local authorities, go higher. Sometimes it seems so futile, and corruption seems to go all the way to the top, but don't let that stop you. Keep trying. Praying is good, but there are too many people praying for God to 'set the captives free' and they do nothing more to help. Take a stand! Make it known.

The Compass

I have been searching for a new job. It's really difficult to choose a path when I have such varied interests and skills, not to mention the potential to go back to school and learn a new trade altogether. The 'overwhelming' feeling of it all has brought to mind a dream from my childhood.

As a little girl, I had a recurring nightmare. In the dream, I found myself floating on a sea of arctic ice, with the calm, brilliantly-blue sea peaking out from under the puzzle-like slabs. I could easily walk from one slab to the next, as they were spaced closely enough together for safe travel by foot. Oddly enough, I didn't get the sense of being cold. It was completely quiet and surreal. The skies were crisp and midnight blue. There were no storms or waves threatening to toss me into a watery grave, nor abominable creature from which to escape.

How could such a serene surrounding inspire in me a terrible sense of fear?

As I stood there, turning to the North, South, East and West, I saw nothing but a frozen desert as far as my eyes could see. I knew that if I didn't choose the right way to start walking, I would be hopelessly lost and eventually die of starvation. It was a paralyzing fear. I could not start walking for fear of going in the wrong direction. I was trapped, yet I was completely free to leave at the same time.

I realize that in chosing my career, I must move forward this time. Not just for my own sake, but for the sake of my small daughter, now traveling with me into the vast expanse. She looks to me for direction. Trusting that I will know which path to take to lead us to safety. I must have the strength to say to her,

"Fear of the unknown must not stop us.
Fear of false steps must not stop us.
Fear of failure must not stop us."

I'm not afraid to move forward, for I have found my compass.

On the back is inscribed...

'Mother'