top of page
  • Writer's pictureCharlene Holkenbrink-Monk

Today is More

This poem is written by Charlene. © 2022

Quiet among the crickets' songs,

With sounds of cars chasing taillights in a city always bustling,

The warmth of my children reminding me to love,


Exhaust all sources of compassion,

Before I exhaust my body and mind, ridding myself of tolerance.

Today is more.

Reminding me of times when I had no little ones to cover and house and protect,

From the difficult and hard world into which I brought them.

A time I did not accept the obstacles I encountered,

That I was a different version of me,

A me who questioned, wondered,

Relentlessly avoidant of reality.

I haven't forgotten the person I was those years ago,

When this was home,

And there was home,

When I was housed in two cities,

Of friends and laughter and easier moments,

Despite the separation of her, then, from the person I am now.

A person who is not the same as then,

Who often feels home is no longer a location in which I feel through welcoming gestures.

Beats pounding,

While my mind, nagging,

A constant voice exclaiming,

"Let it go."

The days in which I let it wash over me,

Allowing footprints upon my soul,

Speckles of emotional mud trampled across my heart,

Are long gone,

But a wish for those instances, of passive acceptance, are present, settling in the bank of desires,

As things would be simpler.

Oh, how easy it could be,

To possess little worry,

No matter the ways it is accomplished,

Through denial and ignorance,

To never feel waves of transformation,

But the sparks have been gradually growing,

Igniting a fire that cannot be extinguished.

I worry,

But it is expected, appreciated, and encouraged now,

As I do not back down.

For my children,

For me,

For all those around.

It just means I am not the same,

The same as before.

Beautiful flames rise out,

Surrounding those I love,

My soul,

My being,

Hugging those I must attempt to protect,


My family,

From the cruelness all around.

I was not this person who exists today, so many years ago,

Then, a time, when something as simple as sleep could wash out the fire,



Passively accepting the suffocation.

Today is more.

0 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page