Writing and visual art go hand in hand for me. I sketch. Make notes. And then often play around with my layouts before I begin painting. This poem below was originally written many years earlier in grad school, but later became the focus of a series about infertility and loss. The heart and mind just can’t be separated when it comes to creativity.
“Mother of Angels”
Sometime before, I knew the answer to my question.
I must suffer this one alone for it is too raw to share.
Simple explanations cannot clarify deep doubts in one’s soul.
Our pain and joy are one, not three now. Yes, no, no.
Why make a promise you cannot keep?
These babes are tiny winged angels.
I promised to keep them safe.
Must you take them before they learn to fly?
I won’t give them up to You, or to anyone.
They are too precious to release, white coat or not.
They will be born with their brother in time.
You must trust me on this.
I am the mother of angels.
– by Cindi A. Jobe