Sun May 4, 2003 (3:20 AM)
My Mother often told me "You have a beautiful profile!" Later in life, my foster mother asked to paint a painting of me - "Profile of a Poet".
My Grandmother had a lovely cameo that she promised me. It was a delicate heirloom, made all the more precious because it was to be her gift to me. Other family members kept my legacy. Yet, I still hold fondly in my loving mind's eye, the delicacy of the facial features upon that broach fine.
My mother lives in her own World now - she has for a long and lonely time. My grandma passed away, too many million broken heartbeats ago. My family - I had to let go of, to allow myself to be the best I choose to be. My foster-mother, because of fear, 'lost touch' with me.
Yet, what precious does remain, is my Beautiful Profile and the poet I am. As far as I can see...
Excerpted from my Journals 1977
I am the blind man
Who sees what others do not feel
I am the deaf child
Who hears what others will not say
I am the crippled woman
Who walks where others dare not tread
I am the innocent newborn
Who goes into a World where nothing matters
I am the wounded animal
Who can no longer feel the pain!
Katherine A. Marion