Heather Pound

when i live for ‘me’ 
i wonder why things don’t go my way often
how dreadful things continue to happen
and it seems that questions like these 
lead down the path towards despair

but when i live for ‘we’
i remember there are more substantial things 
than my personal happiness constant 
and recall that my efforts unnoticed 
are worth doing still

how experiences difficult grew me 
that the support of others heals
and allows me to walk beside 
someone else now

that assisting another today 
is fulfilling
laden with meaning
important
worthwhile

heather pound 2025

photo by A. C. for Unsplash+

🌿There are times when we must help ourselves first and this is okay. But living that way continually is hollow. And lonely. The best way to live is a beautiful flow of mutual support, in community. This is often easier said than done, but worth searching for. When you find your people, hold on to them— but keep your circle open to embrace others, too!🌿

if only you could release that knot,
the one sitting creaky and long
in the middle of your chest. 
oh, how deep you could then breathe

you would gather it all up in one tidy
midsized ball—and then exhale,
letting it flow from your heart 
into open air wide 
as it dissipates 
and vanishes 

but even while you ponder 
prickles sharpen,
and like the spines
of a stubborn cactus
it digs in tighter still

it will not be an easy thing
this exhale of release

yet you draw thorns out of flesh
one sting by even one more painful sting 
until at last it floats free 

and you breathe in deep— 

—and breathe out release.
and there it goes, like tumbleweed across 
the road in bracing winter wind

and your heart begins to sing
and remembers you are so much more 
than the voice that whispered harsh
“inadequate”

—whatever your knot might be 
    it’s worth the effort to release. 

heather pound 2025

Photo by Canva

🌿I reworked this poem from a couple of years ago because it spoke to my own heart today. This process is not easy, but is better in the long run than carrying the weight around another day longer. 🌿

my great uncle dean fell into a lime pit
as a very young boy and after that, the story 
goes, he was never the same again

(but in those days, ‘different’ was 
always a shameful thing, so maybe
he was uniquely himself all along)

he was the one that lived
with my grandpa and grandma, his sister 
and came quietly to meals
not really engaging, slipping away 
as soon as he could

he shuffled in old clothes 
and didn’t act the way
everyone else expected, 
but he worked the farm faithful.

and i remember my grandpa 
especially kind as he listened while
his brother-in-law hesitantly spoke,
unaware that i was watching. 

times were tough on the farm,
good seasons came and went
but bills must be paid 
nevertheless

and my grandma, she worried.
quietly carrying the burden with 
deep and tired sighs as her heart 
grew weaker and grandpa aged
still working on the rented farm.

but one day her brother passed away 
sudden, and the bank manager 
said he had quietly been squirreling 
away his meager income 
year after year, after year

and had bequeathed it all—to her.

my grandparents purchased 
a cozy house in town
and lived comfortably there 
the rest of their days, convenient
due to a brother’s unexpected care.

the moral of the story is:
 intentionally be kind
and love others well
without any strings 
faithful

and don’t worry about things 
not easily solved today
since they frequently 
work out in the end
regardless

heather pound 2025

Photo from Getty Images

the walls of water float high both sides
since you are able to part the sea,
but still i stand with shaking hands
legs that tremble, heart that pounds

and honestly all i want 
is to retreat

because while i know this feat is yours,
One-who-can-part-the-waves,
these particular water walls 
loom especially high.

and though i see the path between 
is clear and even dry, this route 
requires significant trust that you 
will get me to the other side.

this path—beyond my ability
well past my own strength
into places i have never been
environments that i do not know.

yet, like moses, so terribly long ago
i hold my breath 
and inch one step
by one step 
forward at a time,
bordering on terrified

and remind myself of times past 
there has only been you and me,
and how amazingly free 
that space can be 

where i must just trust you

and while i tremble still 
i take a step of faith
—and walk between
the towering waves.

heather pound 2025

Photo by Getty Images

he gave me a ring just because 
he knew that i liked jewellery,
this little grandson of mine 
when he was only four

marching his mum right
to a shop to spend his very own
pocket-money saved on something
i would love before my arrival. 

insisting that they come inside 
the airport to collect me,
not just wait by curb outside,
he handed me his precious 

gift before even giving 
a hug. ‘this is for you!’
and my heart exploded in a
thousand little pieces 

of joy, much like the feeling of
holding him for the very first time.
and i forced it on my finger vowing 
to leave it there—until it broke

after only a couple of days
and i had to make excuses the rest
of my visit about how i was keeping
it safe so i could show his grandad 

and uncles when i went home, still
telling him i loved it every time.
when i asked six months ago 
if he remembered buying me 

a special ring, he didn’t. i suspected by 
then he wouldn’t, but that’s just fine 
because i still have that ring tucked up 
in my jewellery box

the one his mother gave me with
my initials etched on the latch.
and there it will remain
as long as i’m alive.

heather pound 2025

grief is an awkward companion.
just when you think you finally
understand his bewildering ways

or are immune to his 
painful influence at last—
he pops right back up again
unexpected

he is the relationally clumsy 
uncle who concerns by 
never being able to predict
what he will or will not do
at the latest family wedding 

will he behave, will he hide

or will he dance the night away 
limbs akimbo, people staring?

will he offend his tablemates
completely unaware
while all he wants is to be who
he is, do whatever he needs to do 

to be accepted and allowed 
to breathe?

he does not need to be socially 
embraced to be legitimate,
and if he is not invited 
more often than not, 
he grows unpredictable indeed

—what might it look like if we
were just allowed to grieve? 

heather pound 2025

Photo by Vijendra Singh on Unsplash

when someone 
makes a comment
shares an opinion
provides a suggestion
offers their perception

do not let your many pores 
absorb it through your skin
into bloodstream red to cycle
right inside your beating heart

no matter who they are

without pausing to evaluate
the truth, the application
or validity
of their words

—always reflect upon
the opinions of others  
rather than leaping
to internalisation

heather pound 2025

why do i ever worry restless, anxiously fret
because your mercy, your grace
your intricately woven plan—
it never loses a stitch

never is deformed or leaves a gaping hole.
because you, the expert weaver
know exactly what you’re doing,
you know what you have planned.

as the Master Creative you graciously lead
my paltry attempts to step into your 
footsteps great

and while sometimes i feel as if i’m 
hacking through the thickest brush
dodging thorns, creating a path

your footprints are already there 
sparkling and clean and clear
amidst the mud and muck

you have the path,
you have the way
and all that i must do—is look for you,
spot the evidence of your presence great

and to know 
you never meant me to wrestle with this 
alone

o Master Creator,
help me to lift my eyes
from a heart that’s proud
and remember that nothing
has ever been made 
without you. 

heather pound 2025

Painted by God, viewed from my kitchen window.

I’m quietly wrestling with a new book project. This is written from my heart, but I hope that it encourages YOURS whatever is percolating in your heart today. Tapping into whatever is creative in you, placed there in the image of Him—that’s often where we find the most connection, feel the most meaning.

you fight and resist,
ignoring the deepest parts
that want to hold on, remain 
in control, predict the outcome 

but I tell you this—
although it may not feel like it 'til then 
there is no better space to find yourself in
than beyond what you can do  

arriving at the moment where you 
can finally say “if You don’t come through
—then I’ve got nothing”

this is the place of miracles
unlocking your heart to 
the Father who smiles and says
“ah, this is where i wanted you 

all along. now i will part the waters
push back the sea, rid you of the 
enemies that pursue threatening.

because i am here 
and i am good
i’ve got this situation 
in impossibly capable hands
and you will have my peace”

heather pound 2025

Photo by Hannah Bates

if they had told me 
what it was really like,
those days and days
of endless routine

the wiping of noses, the frequent tears
feeding, bouncing, bathing, toileting
not enough sleep
endless dishes and washing of clothes
repeat	upon repeat

if they had explained
that i would spend 
hours just sitting, child on lap
feeding, comforting, entertaining 
tired

that my body would never be the same
and really my mind as well, since you
are never too far from my thoughts
hardwired

i might have thought twice perhaps
—but it wouldn’t have mattered 
as i met you one by precious one.

i did the math and i spent 
three full years of my life 
uncomfortable with child 
to gain the four of you

nevertheless, i would 
do it all again, no hesitation
to marvel at, to cherish, adore
to watch grow
the treasures that you are.

heather pound 2025

My very first Mother’s Day.