Yesterday

I am so loved. So grateful.

Yesterday started today.
I hear an Angel voice say:
"Then you can wake up and make coffee. It will be all clean and ready."

This friendship is more than steady.
I am blessed beyond measure.
This Woman is a treasure.

She came and made soup.
Cleaned up and baked bread.
The children helped and learned.
She cradled my head.

The pain lessened. And I learned.
I can lean in to love. It is my turn.
To finally feel safe.

Embrace this Life.
A little more, I see.
Their is Pain and Strife.
Yes.
But it isn't me. It isn't me.

I am Love. And we are all Free.

The day after

The day after
Extreme persistent pain
(in the form of a migraine)
Always feels like a fresh new start

The part where I woke up, kicked legos in the dark
Then heard the kids bark (ok, shout): "Mama! Where are you?'

6:30am, I was planning a quiet coffee alone
Maybe meditate and write this poem...

They woke up. But oh well.
I am writing and feeling swell!

So much more swell than yesterday
When colours was fluctuating between only black or grey.

En tout cas. Here I am.

And I am well on my way.
To awesome. To balance.
To remebering that everything is okay.

Humming

I have a few minutes
to hum
and hope

I can calm down
Feet on the ground

humming and breathing

Catching up

The Sonshine told me this
One day long ago:
"Mama. You have to be your most important person to yourself."

He was little and so fucking wise.
I am swearing today.
The grief I carry is currently masked by anger.
(Anger is so useful for getting things done)

Sigh. But I
Don't know
What is so
the matter.

Too many flames being juggled in the air
So many people I have to take care
of.

And me? I give myself morsels and crumbs at best
Difficult to cook a healthy meal
Unless there is someone else to feed.

Self-care! Self-care! Shout it from the mountain tops!
What a flop, there are no drops left in me
to spare. How can I care for myself when I have nothing left to give?

Edges and edges and ropes with no ends.
I break and break more wondering how I might bend
these old destructive patterns into something bright and new!

Maybe it is less about something I must do...
And more about saying: "I choose not to do that."
This or that thing. Taking off one or two hats
The ones that never quite fit right
The ones that caused too many big fights

Internal battles between the disjointed crew...
My inner Helpers with expressions askew:
"Why is she wearing that again?
Didn't she learn from the last time when
We pretended to be something other than True?"

Colours and hues
And darkest shades of Blue
I know the depths well
Only time will tell
If I am brave enough to be

The very most important person to Me.

Hurting

Coming back down

Certain I will drown

in the Pain of infinity

If I let anyone too near to me.

Embodied. Come back in.

What do I do then with the chagrin?

The deep intrinsic sadness

Convinced of my own badness

Unable to forgive some horrible sin

that I can not even understand...

Nothing makes sense.

Nothing but false pretense.

All is well, all is well

Nothing wrong. So strong...

I am. Yes.

But these feelings too...

If the only way out is through

What can I do

If I crumble to pieces?

Will a blast of lightning Pain

Finally drown out the rain

and the tears and the clouds

The screaming voices, so loud?

And magically leave me whole again?

Feel it to heal it! They blithely say...

I can't feel anymore today.

Choosing safety. Choosing numbness.

Losing patience. Refusing dumbness.

As in the original meaning of no voice

We do always have choice.

Our most powerful tool. Stronger even than love.

It comes down to choice. But quickness must also be honed

I want to make choices of love 

before my reactions leave me crying again

feeling so alone

 

Falling behind

If I write two today and then two more tomorrow
I will be free from the impending sorrow
Of failing at my intended goal.

The dear Soul
that kept me from writing
Is with his Dad tonight.

Oh the plight
of single-parenting.

He screamed a lot yesterday.
We did play.
With legos mostly. I fed him toast-he
threw on the floor.

We did manage to eat, ok...
I fed him a hot dog.
And peppers and arugula
But, well, hey!
I am doing the best I can.

I needed contact lens solution
But in order to get it I would have had to pack him up too.
This, I wasn't willing to do (what with coats and hats and boots...)
So we made due.

I also have the flu. Or at least a wicked cold.
Coughing and snot
Ears aching a lot.

The screaming became intense. He hadn't napped.
Have you ever fallen into the trap
of trying to reason with an overtired already spirited three-year old?
I need not be told
It is a challenge that brings many to their knees
Begging please, please, please...

But that doesn't work.
Fire does though!
I lit the sweet grass.
In for five...out for five...
Breathed it in. And out.
Smoke trailing into the air. All around his body, his hair.
He stops screaming. Like magic.
Whatever was so tragic
Is over now.
Wow.

I am grateful. He is back.
We read stories.
Light turns to black night.
We pray then we sleep.
So deep. So sweet.

And now, just one extra poem tomorrow and I am back on track!

I wonder, what will they say?

Your presence was missed again today.
Two months since I have seen your sweet face.
Angel auburn hair framing sweet freckled cheeks
A voice so mild and gentle, but not exactly meek.

No. Not meek, but so very brave.
I can only guess at why you went away
Your energy so serene and so kind
I hadn't the luxury of also learning your mind.

And though this cruel world did hurt you,
You remain the epitome of feminine virtue.
I can only hope and pray that you are all right
And wish that I could have saved you from that fateful night.

Was it night? Or day? I can not say.
I do so hope that I see you again someday.