Dawn On Me

 

Furious at delays, things in my way,

people slowing me down,

I would still change pace

with pets, mostly dogs

who hiked with me through

the wild places I visited.

On my trajectory of change,

the representative of a simmering

lineage, homeless, stepping always

on alien lands with the unacknowledged

guilt of colonists.  Uneasy but focused,

striding through “on your left”

the airport walkways with my cross-

country skier pace or

driving with my foot down

racing to the beat.

A list of goals

and things to do,

eyes on the prize.

Until a cough grew worse.

Finally forced

down into darkness,

breakdown and loss,

contemplating death in the devastation.

Stripped of everything, my innate

joy surfaced. And now

I celebrate

my unique

steps, pausing to see

what is

and always

coming back to my breath.

Inspired by:  Unique, Cough, Pet and Representative.

Getting The Present Of The Past

Peeling back the layers 

nestled into each other

like onion skin at first,

tearing easily until the solid

sweet flesh is exposed

and the tears begin.

Trauma is like this,

lurking in the present

under the veils of making do,

getting past, 

overlooking,

fuggetaboutit.

It persists.

Round and around I go,

each tiny step 

a healing movement

when I declare it so,

like a child running

scared, heart thumping

to finally jump, turn around

and declare, “safey safe,”

clutching a blanket on base,

mommy’s bed where no

monsters reach, at least,

in theory.  Gathering up these

twice-bitten, no-use-crying

children, the stellar creators

of body signals

to slow down,

change course.

I drag the weight of them

until the symptoms crash 

and I fall, devastated,

into hell.  I only see

finally in this calm place,

space to pry open 

the clam and release the pearl.

My greatest irritants

like an explicit wish

from all these tiny

tortured selves: get better, darling,

in the new cycle ahead.

Inspired by: PersistCycle, Wish,  Explicit

Joy Follows

I’m frightened

— I can’t breathe

and is it worth the struggle?

Late in the night, I forget

my blessings focused

on the manifestations

of this stress-filled week.

I’ve been without

power, afraid to reach out

— with chronic illness, you learn

to fade into the shadows

rather than voice your pain,

to spare your loved ones.

Daylight shines on the toddler

who collapses in sadness,

I can’t do it.  He’s tapped

into my vibration, not an abstract

idea after all.  I assume

an approximation of certainty:

You can do it! 

He’s created an opening

to empower

and I seize it, leaping from

the cliffs of mastery

of limitations to speak

to all of the young children:

We can do it!
Let’s do this!

At every step to walk my talk

I illuminate

the uncomfortable reactive

places, speak truth

and let go of the programmed

fear forcing a fit that

itches, inflames

my body says no.

This belief system no longer

serves so I take the painful

path to learn

to be myself fully,

integrated, resonant

in authentic joy.

Written for #OctPoWriMo Day 24: Opening, and inspired by: approximateabstract, manifestation, frighten, empower, and late.