Torn Poem by Lenawee Silver

My spirit walks down a forest path.
Silent footsteps fall in the misty morning.
The song of brilliant birds
Falls on my ears like cathedral music.
The breeze that playfully tickles my face
Calls me home.
Images from another place and time.
I reach out my hand to touch the veil
That separates body from spirit.
I turn away to duty.
My duty as mother and wife.
To care for family.
To keep a home safe and warm,
Food on the table
Clean clothes for work and school.
To be everything duty demands.
For a moment
I hear my spirit's call to come home.
I turn away to duty
And to live a life being torn.