This is what I mind the most:
When I tire of medication, everybody knows.
I sit at home and sulk, and mind it,
Missing bits of something, one thing at the most.
(I could know, if only I could find it.)

This is what I fear the most:
That this stray thought, which comes and goes,
Will go at last, and I will never find it.
It will not free me when I need it most.
(Housebound, I wrap myself in me, and mind it.)

This is what I seek the most:
Some sure whole center where a new life flows
For those who know full brokenness, nor mind it.
I seek and pray, and when I seek it most,
I fall, free fall, am caught up close–
and find it.


sheila with childrenSheila is a Pennsylvania housewife who shares love, laughter and the hope of the resurrection with her welder husband, Michael, and their seven children born from 2007 through 2017.


Photography by Kenneth Godoy

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