donna ashworth poem, i wish i knew, we must believe, poetry book, motherhood art, butterfly art

Youthful Striving ♥ Poetry For Your Heart

I'd like to introduce you to a poet whom I think will touch your heart. I recently purchased her newest book.


donna ashworth poem, i wish i knew, we must believe, poetry book, motherhood art, butterfly art


Donna’s poem, The Contented Crone from an earlier book (shown below), got me thinking about one of my own painfully-burning life questions that starts like this:


Until recently I had two quite aged grandmothers. One was 96 and one is 99. I realize that as their granddaughter I have only known them in their ‘quieter’ and ‘less busy’ years and roles. 

I missed out on the striving of their youth and the becoming and blossoming that they achieved as they grew from young girls into women. I know they raised children, kept homes, built homes, did charity work, envisioned and crafted intricate art pieces, created clothing, raised grandchildren, and designed and prepared many, many meals.

I then think of my own striving ways that are just beginning to slow down as I’m reaching my mid-forties. In my 20s I was an absolute workhorse: grinding a home business, achieving, planning, drawing, writing, scheming, publishing, accomplishing. All. The. Time. I have built a business, brought two children up into young men, cleaned, created and cultivated. I’ve built a large collector base for my paintings that I’ve cared for and appreciated for over 17 years.


This all matters to me.

But… when I am 80 and 90, will any of this matter to anyone else? 

And does it matter if it doesnt matter? 

My grandchildren will probably see me as a soft (a bit squishy) woman who paints and draws, does yoga, reads, and walks. Who bakes cookies and eats cookies and God-willing, lives kindly, long, and lovingly.

They will not know how I strived. They will only see a few mere fruits of my earlier days’ work: my books, my journals, and some paintings that I hope to pass down to them.

Donna’s poem, The Contented Crone, gave me some peace but also a little heartache in a not-so-bad-way. 


Writing about my now-resting Grandmother’s life from notes I’d taken on our visits, got me thinking: it is OKAY that I knew her in mostly only her slower and softer years. I don’t know of much of her striving and accomplishing, but it is OKAY that I was a participant of only her later years. 

Those who needed it, her children, remember her as a hard-loving and best-doing mother. The people in her life that needed her strength, got it in the right moments. The people who needed to be fed were fed by her. Her hands did good work when it mattered.

And I got/get to witness the slowing down of both of my grandmothers’ hands. The “resting-is-doing” realization that Donna mentions, I am beginning to understand.


My grandmothers have passed down a new thing to strive for: loving and living in each moment, letting the past be the past. Finding joy in the small things like hummingbirds, wandering deer, small treasures, treats, and the scents of flowers. But also maybe leaving behind some proof of who you were and how hard you worked :)

My burning question is fading in intensity.

My painting Resilience (below) was painted as I was finding my balance between being the always-achieving businesswoman and the attached mother to a new child. New transitions are on the horizon for all of us.

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THE CONTENTED CRONE, by Donna Ashworth


I’ve always wanted, very much, to be that woman.

The old one, with the hair like silver that seems to radiate its very own source of light.

The one with the knowing smile that hints at humour ever present and a life that’s been full of belly laughter.

The woman with the deep lines in her weathered skin, lines etched out by adventure, by joy, by fear and by growth.

I imagined how I’d float rather than walk because I no longer bear the weight of the world on my shoulders and I marvelled at how my days would be full to the brim with resting and noticing the world around me.

I would not care for thoughts of guilt because by then I would have learned that resting is doing, and is very important indeed.
There I would be reading, gardening, eating food I had grown and passing my little nuggets of wisdom down, to anyone who wanted to listen.

The contented crone.

The final phase of the journey of womanity.

No chasing youth for me,

I will be languishing, loudly, in the joy of my age and my luck at having got so far.


I’ve always wanted, very much, to be that woman.

Join me, if you like.


~Donna Ashworth


Purchase Donna’s newest book, as I have.



Thank you for reading, have a WONDERFUL day. Wanna chat live on Facebook? I'll see you there.

Love & Sincerely, Katie


donna ashworth poem, i wish i knew, we must believe, poetry book, motherhood art, butterfly art
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