The nature of trauma is that it is unconscious; something frightened or disturbed us enough so that we did not want to experience it. We shut down, we froze, we acted out, we ran. We did not make sense of the experience and file it away, we threw it out of consciousness.~Tian Dayton
I reject the swamp of my birthplace, call and finagle love by the sea. Far from my roots, play the gargoyle–mysterious pagan goddess adorning cathedrals—
spiked-head cautionary tale. I’m trying to make these words sensible. My lineage settles for mosquito-infested land losing sight of possibility, hard
survival hunkers down even though just a few miles up the road is paradise. I reject my habitude. Centuries of unprocessed trauma rise. The shoreline
fraught, I pause in fear anticipating the shock of change, cold slap of moving sea and I must leap, reject the quandary. Relentless tide brings what lies beneath the
surface, the deep places pain claims surge like a riptide, insisting I dive deep release the illusions to dry crumbling on sand. Shivering, wet, now I accept.
when we met in musical fall romance my narrow view meant rescue and true love until my body broke now our distance
off balance I trudge into wakefulness hit hard and hurting from the jab my guts insist I still. Yet I run playfulness
as rain erases traces, makes a mess of the precise placement offered. True love’s invite into the dawn precise largesse
the bunnies, hawks and I receive, profess to understand. The mostly green above a moving mystery, tantalized, blessed
red brilliance falling each leaf pure romance. From high a fool leaps—perhaps gently shoved? —the precipice, won’t I? Openheart dance
a bluejay squawks and just in time, this yes slo mo surrender dive glides past each up- draft and I’m rapt, furious gratefulness
curious codes. Belly laughs sustain us love calls all the mirages past burn up when we met in musical fall romance until my body broke now our distance
Inspired by: Laugh, Trudge, Jab and Moving. I started a villanelle but this morning I’m a kid who just can’t color in the lines. I’m turning the page over and painting the walls and ceilings of my consciousness. You know, that kind of day?
Featured image is a kaleidoscope filter on this love letter the sky left me.
The love letters you compose in the dark greet me after dawn retreats rosily
blushing at the sheer passion you exude this scarlet flaming promise every hue
love flaunts sensual blessings in the wild echoes of the way you reach me wordless
for now rising from the deep while beaming hotly from skies sacred vows emerging
thankful as each gift removes a block I’d forgotten in my years of hermitage
how love calls when you least expect, demands a choice. Do you love me? Yes or no.
Written for #OctPoWriMo Day 4 prompts fearless, falling, breathe in a blitz poem or a Grá Reformata. (although a different form chose me in a rush, falling fearlessly onto my page this morning like the featured image of the love letter I received at dawn.)