Pruning Rose

As you watch the video, I invite you to read my poem printed below. I celebrate survivors of breast cancer. Today is the first day for Breast Cancer Awareness Month this year. http://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/breast-cancer-awareness-month
I salute all cancer survivors, empathize with those struggling, and mourn anyone who lost their battle this lifetime. Unfortunately, there are far too many who are touched by cancer.

Pruning Rose
by Rose Klix

Roses thrive with careful pruning,
send out shoots a foot longer than the ones cut off.
Then their blossoms blush with a youthful newness.

With my doctors’ help, cancer pruned me.
They stripped away my control
and attempted a complete removal of my dignity.

They replaced my once noticeable femininity
with long scars and promised to rebuild my breasts
after my physical healing was complete.

But proud, I stand with the Amazons, who chose
similar transformation for better archery skills.
I am readied to fight for my life with chemotherapy.

I endure side effects and digestive discomforts.
People say I look good in spite of skin blemishes.
Even on my worst days, my husband takes care of me.

Today my crown is devoid of hair. My friend and I cry.
I’m not ready for my world to view a GI Jane style.
She encourages me to shop for feminine sassy hats.

I am not strong. I am not brave.
I am a survivor, who refuses to hide.
God pruned me. He expects I will blossom more fully.

– written in 2010

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Excerpt six – Gone, Not Forgotten

dried rose petals

rose potpourri

ROSES OF MOTHERHOOD
by Rose Klix

VI. Gone, Not Forgotten
– potpourri and ashes

Rain lasting throughout the quiet spring.
Fondly remembered good time smiles,
small events, warm and cuddly sunshine.
Your ashes are part of the good earth.
Gone away, but your essence stayed.
Your seeds and their seeds display unique hues.
So much like you, though they deny it.
Bless you for watching over us still.

Excerpted from Pastiche of Poetry, Volume II, copyright 2012.
Poet’s comment: “This last stanza from my poem Roses of Motherhood brings to mind the many generations of mothers who passed before me. Earlier I disliked being compared to Mom. Relatives told her the same about Grandma. Now I remember them both as part of me when I look in the mirror. This Mother’s Day holiday I commemorate their ashes in the circle of life progression. I made potpourri from my roses’ petals; their scent lingers as strong as pleasant memories.” Rose Klix
http://www.RoseKlix.com/books

Excerpt five – Grandmother

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ROSES OF MOTHERHOOD
by Rose Klix

V. Grandmother
– dropping petals

You’re hardy and survived harsh winters.
Some thorny years have taken their toll.
Time for rocking chair philosophy.
Soft petals have started to wrinkle.
Hugs, kisses, love are miles away.
The scent of your perfume lingers.
It seems you will always be there, but . . .
Thank you for reaching out with your love.

Excerpted from Pastiche of Poetry, Volume II, copyright 2012.
Poet’s comment: “This stanza from my poem Roses of Motherhood brings to mind both of my grandmothers. Fortunately I knew them, but for a brief time. My paternal grandmother lived her early life in true pioneer style, homesteading on the South Dakota prairie. My maternal grandmother grew up in a rural setting. She helped Mom and me garden and can our food. My own mother enjoyed her role as grandma. This Mother’s Day I celebrate generations of mothering.”
Rose Klix http://www.RoseKlix.com/books

Excerpt four – Empty Nest

Crying Rose

Red Rose in full bloom with raindrops

ROSES OF MOTHERHOOD

by Rose Klix

IV. Empty Nestfull bloom

Seeds in the wind, years and children gone,
sought their own sunshine and felt their rain.
They didn’t take root, not here, not now.
Lighthouse safe-haven perennial,
your fertilizer is tried and true.
Tenderness and training cling to them.
Sometimes they asked. Sometimes they listened.
Thank you. You knew when to let go.

Excerpted from Pastiche of Poetry, Volume II, copyright 2012.
Poet’s comment: “This stanza from my poem Roses of Motherhood brings to mind my son moving away. I continue to think about and worry about his decisions. He’s not my little boy and I know he must live his own life. It also reminds me of the times I pulled away from him and my own mother. She didn’t always agree on my choices, but always respected I had the right to make my own mistakes. We shared tears which glisten like this rose’s raindrops reflect the sunshine.” Rose Klix
http://www.RoseKlix.com/books

Excerpt three – Practicing Mother

Blossom opening

ROSES OF MOTHERHOOD
by Rose Klix

III. Practicing Mother
– an opening blossom

The shaded hues of blossoms defined
tentatively opened petals.
Study parenthood during sleepless
worry nights. Each day is a pop quiz.
Teacher, friend, guide, all this even more.
Spring and summer are gone in a flash.
Crazy world explorers seek safe shade.
Thank you for your wisdom and advice.

Excerpted from Pastiche of Poetry, Volume II, copyright 2012.
Poet’s comment: “This stanza from my poem Roses of Motherhood brings to mind the many worry lines I developed helping my son Scott grow to manhood. I still hold guilt for mistakes which prevented Erik living beyond the toddler stage. The children were not the only ones who learned and matured. I hope I was a refuge from the ‘crazy world’ sometimes.” Rose Klix
http://www.RoseKlix.com/books

Excerpt two – New Mother

Rosebud for New Mother

One of my beautiful roses starting to open.

ROSES OF MOTHERHOOD
by Rose Klix

II. New Mother
a rosebud

Moments ago, just a young green bud,
barely showed color. Yet new life
sprouts inside you with sunshine and tears.
Heavenly rain droplets glisten leaves,
help you grow. Learn patient love.
Be a good example.
Learn fast for your new seedling.
Thank you for always doing your best.

Excerpted from Pastiche of Poetry, Volume II, copyright 2012.
Poet’s comment: “This stanza from my poem Roses of Motherhood brings to mind my experiences as a new mother. I was immature but learned fast as I could. It’s the hardest job I ever accepted, but I always tried my best for my two sons, Scott and Erik.” Rose Klix http://www.RoseKlix.com/books