Jacquelyn Welling

Midland, Michigan, USA

Jackie has been writing poetry for over 35 years.  She is a licensed social worker in the State of Michigan.  She worked as a volunteer with the battered women's shelter and for the local sexual assault center before she hired on at the community mental health center, where she worked with the mentally ill and developmentally disabled for six years before she retired.  She has three grown children, two of whom are in the Marine Corps and onw who still lives in Saginaw and is working towards a degree in teaching.  She has had her poetry published by The National Library of Poetry Guild and Quill Books.  She currently is working on a manuscript about the effects of child abuse.  She can be contacted via e-mail at:   Jawelling1@juno.com

Pieces of Me

Born itno this world, whole and sound,
Of body and mind, did I,
And, evil being as it is, in time,
Time over time, did I
Crumble and crack, splitting in pieces
Like a broken mirror, did I.

One peice, two pieces, three, they
Grew to many, did they
And, people never changing, the pieces
Became separate beings, did they,
Never knowing, like Humpty-Dumpty,
They broke again, did they.

Time passes, as it is won't to do, and
I cried out, did I,
Seeing the world through many eyes
I grieved, did I,
And waiting what elese I saw in others
I railed, did I.

"I want to be wholde again," weeping
And sighing, said I,
"Find me a healer, Dear God,"
Broken and blue, said I,
"Don't want to be like a broken mirror
Anymore," said I

Now knowing He heard my silent cry.
God turned and said, "I did."
"You asked for My help, dear child,"
He said, " And I did.
So stop your tears and rise."
And, stepping out of the ashes, I did.

The Healer

Oh, healer, who touches my soul, deeply,
Look at my eyes, which weep.
Listen to this heart, as it misses a beat.
Did you know, healer, of heart so sweetly,
A broken spirit come to you today
In a forever search of a better way
To live this life more completely.

Oh, healer who listens so patiently,
How did you hear my silent cry,
In my forever search of why,
What for others is easy, while I laboriously
Fight; oh, healer, for joy
In a world where I'm just a toy
Discarded, when no longer wanted, so easily.

Oh, teacher, have Inot told you lately,
What wonders I have known
Through the world you have shown,
So gently, so kind, and so effortlessly?
I can almost believe the things that I see
In your eyes as you're looking at me,
Oh, teacher, the view is most appealing!

Oh, healer, so patient when I foolishly
Rush headlong to the world I've seen
As recklessly as a child, or teen,
And when fallen, you come, unobtrusively,
To lift me up, and try to point out the way
For me to live unfettered by old decay
And start my life anew, triumphantly!

Willow-Weeds

Quietly sitting by the dusky window,
Disheveled, unkept, one lonely tear,
Rolling down a dirt-smeared face,
Old woman, alone, made ancient by years
Of tears, and heartbreak.  Oh, the men

Who trod heedlessly, tromping, stomping
All in their path, ignorant of their deeds,
Even if they knew, it would not matter.
They pass through life like tumbleweeds,
Blown hither and thither, careless,

Not one thought on their minds but to conquer,
To own, possess, to leave whenever
The wind calls, nature to nature,
Their women, left bereft, tears rolling down
Faces streaked by time and travails from men.

Alone, sitting in windowsills, watching, waiting,
They have forgotten for what they wait, foolish;
Forgot to light the lamp, poor souls lost,
Crying in the dusky night for old soldiers
To return to them their fractured hearts.