Poem: Still Progressing

By Jesselynn Stoddard

I reach out,

The tired Hot Wheels dropped to my outstretched fingers

Put to the dirt,

racing fast between previously carved out race tracks of gravel

Hours of Mario Kart relived

mingled with hope that Dad doesn’t come see what we’ve done

They call me sister,

Siblings, bodyguards against bullies, friends who stick around

I reach out,

A rough hand placed against my palm

Shake with conviction, introduce myself

Preparing to show the depths of my soul to a stranger

Speaking in unity

To share truths learned long ago with promised power and grace

They call me Sister,

Learning or teaching, seeing me grow or growing themselves

Saying goodbye

The hardest part

Stepping back to those who first called me sister

Away from the new

No longer feeling like either person

Stepping forward to the unknown

Not feeling strong enough to face the storms

Stumbling again, to find myself falling short

Short of my goals

Your goals

Here,

You reach out,

You call me sister

You take my hand

Reminding of the lessons recited 

Your love, Your grace

Unending forgiveness

You pick me up, dust me off

Never speaking the harsh words

only speaking of my worth

I am called sister,

I’ll reach out again

I’ll be your hands lifting them from the depths

Forget myself in the work, Get lost in the morning

A rising sun in the glory of potential

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