Center for Journal Therapy
Grant Street Mansion
1115 Grant St. #207
Denver, CO 80203
Voice: 888-421-2298
Denver metro: 303-986-6460
Fax: 303-985-3903
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Poem of the Month: May 2003

When I Feel Most Like Her When I stretch one small scrap of the world across a hoop, forgetting everything outside the wood.  When I plant a garden of cross stitches, lay down my holy writs in magenta, black, cornflower across linen. When I run through drifts to drop radish seeds into the snow, loving the idea of the hard red hearts pumping up inside the silent earth more than I long for their cool sting on my tongue. When I ski beside Pine Creek, my legs and arms remembering the way back to some great-great-grandmother in Sweden.  The hills a bolt of white velvet unrolling out before me. The trail, stitches I follow to her kitchen where she's wedding seed pearls to the bodice of a dress she'll wear once and pass down to her daughter. She stokes the stove, puts coffee on, opens her back door to morning lying like a gray-blue cloak over the snow. She straps on skis and pushes off, gliding through pink birches, leaning toward sunrise, into the future, breaking trail for my sweat, my heartbeat. Her heart writing its one poem: again, again. - Judith Sorenberger Journal prompts: When do you feel most like your mother? What is the one poem your mother's heart writes or wrote? What is the one poem your own heart writes? Write a captured moment of something you remember your mother doing often.

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