S is for SAFETY

Because I grew up in a dysfunctional and abusive family environment, I still often feel anxiety even if I logically understand that there is nothing to fear. So it got me wondering what it means to truly comprehend safety or security. As my poem acknowledges, a bird builds a nest for her babies high up in a tree so she can stay nearby and scare away any intruders. Near schools, crosswalk guards, in brightly coloured red and yellow vests, keep students safe as they cross the streets. Within the confines of home, one can sit down in the afternoon with a scented cup of tea and listen to music - or silence - and feel the warmth and coziness of being surrounded by loved ones. When a baby is born, it is immediately wrapped up tightly in a warm flannel blanket and put into the arms of its mother. Instinct on both sides should kick in with mother feeling responsible for her child's security, and child knowing it's safe in its mothers arms. Sometimes we prefer steak, but a homemade plain meal can give us a sense of security even more, knowing it was prepared by loving hands who worked hard to provide. Finally, home should be a haven whether it is small or large, ordinary or grand. I am grateful to live in a part of the world where poverty and war is something far away and I can give practical assistance through charities and relief organizations. However, now I know that I am now safe and secure from those situations that, as a child, scared me.

SAFETY

Safety is the brown of a bird's nest.
It looks like a red and yellow neon vest.
It sounds like a sigh in an afternoon's rest.
It smells like talcum on a baby newborn.
It tastes like meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn.
It feels like the third pig's house made of bricks.
Safety is a pin that will not prick.

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