The following #POPCreators entry was submitted by Dr. Chelsea Elizabeth Samson. Submissions under POP! Creator Community appears “as is,” without any editorial intervention.
Dr. Samson works in the field of health management and technology in the Philippines and advocates for human connections in the healthcare system. Alongside her primary functions, she pursues civic advocacies as a brand ambassador of Kandama indigenous weaves and as a Global Shaper under the World Economic Forum. She has been writing poetry since the age of 12 and has continued a love affair with arts through her painting and poetry.
Here are three different poems she wrote that reflect some of her memorable life experiences.
Pan de Sal
When I was a little girl,
My mother told me that pain was a woman’s gift.
I remembered then, she was baking bread.
Her hands fell soft, melodic
and as the flour wove through her fingers
She would hum little sounds that painted my world.
I could never figure her recipe,
but she said that I would know when I was older.
And I have tried and tried since then.
I would never forget the taste of it,
a brown smell and a salty comfort in my mouth
that lingered as I ran outside to play.
Years passed and the days have grown long in me
and many times, I have made her bread,
if only to feel that brown comfort again.
But life always colored mine with its flavors,
at times too light, and thrice too sweet to taste.
Heavy hands made it bitter, and biting to the tongue.
I felt like I would never know her secret,
But the need to feel that comfort, and curiosity,
would not leave my soul.
And so once more I made my mother’s bread,
But the salt of my tears and pain, of age
added to water, sugar, flour, yeast and eggs
There it was – it finally tasted like my mother’s.
To the one who looks in broken mirrors –
you can stare at yourself for days.
Looking for a battle of imperfections
that you fight in so many ways.
You find your own body broken
your face you line with scars,
and yet you continue your own game,
even when you’re putting yourself behind bars.
I know that you’re tired and empty.
You feel that you’ll never win,
but I’m here to tell you
that this is the place to begin.
It’s okay to be lost and at bottom;
and to find yourself cut from your skin,
because your truth will always reveal you,
your essence from deep within.
You need not to be perfect,
in your struggle to find your space
You need only to forgive yourself
for doubting your inner grace.
Set yourself from burden,
Let your soul be where you can rest,
Let no one define your journey,
Because only you know yourself best.
And if you find yourself wondering,
if you can be all you can be
To the broken behind the mirror –
Don’t worry, I’ll set you free.
“Don’t you miss him?”
I miss him in the moments,
when I am in the middle of the crowd,
and my hand looks for his.
I miss him in the way
I long to hear melodies
that are sung out-of-tune.
I miss him whenever I hear laughter
and remember the hours
we used to spend painting our dreams.
But I forget that I miss him
when I agonize in pain,
through the silence of the night.
I unweave him from memories
when I realize that I only have myself
to pick up the pieces of broken he dropped
when he chose to walk away.
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