Inspired by Jan L. Richardson’s Advent themed book, Night Visions, and my own frustrations, I blustered a rant/poem last night. I am posting it now to share with you, that we may come together in misery and camaraderie in this sometimes difficult season.
Speak to me–
wherever you are,
whoever you are,
that I may hear.
May I hear me—
from long ago,
hear me—
from yesterday and tomorrow.
The timeless me
that knows
what is.
Call to me,
this Soul
who still lives
quietly in my
beating heart.
Raise your shriek
that I may hear.
Buried dreams?
Co-creating a
happy
family.
Two bright kids
in a hands-on world,
not on iPads and iPhones,
no…
wood and nails,
screws and springs,
creative fun,
with color,
suspense,
adventure,
joy.
No co-creator…
no norm—al.
Abinormal,
Frankenstein family,
jipped girl and boy,
crazed mom,
absent dad.
Buried dreams,
yes,
with wilted flowers,
browning on the grave top.
What wounds cry out?
For healing?
Healing, you say?
You’ve gotta believe
to even consider
healing.
I don’t believe.
I’ve lost belief.
Healing is behind
a blackened door.
Burned out.
Vacant.
Impossible.
My children
need healing.
My co-creators
are wounded.
They need healing
and I need
so much more.
Where to begin
in such a vast
deep
hole?
What longs to be born,
IN ME?
A flame
burning
flickering
warming
lighting.
Dis-covering
what puzzle
my piece
fits in.
Re-creating
a life
long subdued,
lived within the lines,
under the rules,
played safe.
The flame within,
wants restoring,
reigniting,
rebirthing,
in this season.
I dare not
yearn
for basic love,
reliable honesty,
unbounded creativity,
respectful partnering.
Humble praying
to the god within,
acknowledging
shortcomings,
letting go—
then believing
in support,
an invisible carpet
carrying me onward.
Speak to me
wherever you are,
whoever you are,
that I may hear,
and be—
lieve.
As an aside, this rant was in response to Richardson’s questions to the reader for the second week of Advent (p.20) which she themes “Desire.” Of note, my dear writing friend who introduced me to this book some years back and continues an annual dialogue with me about it, informed me today that Jan’s husband and partner died from complications of a brain aneurysm just a few days ago. I encourage you to support her work if you are so moved.
Touching and raw. Reminiscent of feelings I recall after my separation. I felt like I’d just graduated high school with two young children, with no plans and no idea how to start making up for lost time. Amazing how healing patience and laughter can be.
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Yes time is a great healer. Laughter as well! Writing too! Some of us are even lucky enough to gain a “shift” in perception at some point, enabling us to forgive, both ourselves and the other.
Thanks for following my blog. I loved your most recent post…I wanted to reply “Amen!” but could not find a comment box. I look forward to exploring your blog further.
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