My Child Self (still there, inside, waiting)

 

Sad little girl,

Come, sit with me.

Let me hold you, dry your tears,

Kiss your sweet little face.

I know you are hurt, I understand, I see her,

I see how she is, how she treats you.

Come and sit close, you can trust me,

I will protect you; there is no hurting here.

I know you are too little to understand, and

Too innocent to see the shame and fear she holds inside.

All you know is the pain of her betrayal.

I know and see how hard you try to please her, yet still she is hateful and mean.

I hear her tell you daily that you are not good enough, are funny looking and how she wishes she had never given birth to you.

I see and feel your pain and frustration, and

It breaks my heart to watch this happen to us.

I have learned and grown while you have waited and now the time has come

For me to come back in time to you, to a time when we were one.

Look for me and don’t be afraid, come close and I will read you a story,

I know she never did.

I will hold you like my baby and sing your sorrows to sleep,

She didn’t know how.

I will show you that you are better than good enough, and

I will prove to you that there is nothing wrong with you, in spite of what she said.

You will never be alone again,

The wait is over.

Trust me my child-self,

I have enough love for both of us, I pinky-promise.

 

 

After re-reading this post it has finally dawned on me why my anger and hurt at being neglected is still so strong… that was my punishment as a child for not being what my mother wanted me to be…. first she would yell at me and then she would ignore me, not speak to me for days at a time, and when she finally did, it was only to affirm how worthless I was… my husband treated me the same way, and so did other men in my life… unbelievable… so wrong and so sad for that little girl who still lives in my heart.

Wisdom at Midnight

 

Last night, at midnight, an Owl spoke in the forest,

And I understood.

Listening I realized how a perpetual misunderstanding was coloring my thoughts,

But not the owl’s as her knowledge is deep and colored by nothing but the truth.

As I lay alone in my bed, I felt the darkness soothe the forest’s heart and hoped, but

It could not touch my disturbed soul.

I couldn’t see, I didn’t know what was next,

I felt suffocated by the inky blackness while

The forest mother was at peace and

Sighed in contentment.

My only peace now will come from learning from her.

To accept her invitation to  surrender my will and lay down in her gentle softness,

To use a layer of her leaves as my bed while

Her twinkly night sky becomes my pillow.

I will trust her to protect me, to hold me close and

Put me to sleep with her lullaby of star-shine.

I know its the only way as Her wisdom is deeper than mine, dependable,

Greater than me, and more than just a beacon in this perpetual darkness.

Tell me, did you hear the owl’s wisdom at midnight too?

The Single Second of Midnight

The Deep primal sounds at midnight are

A gathering of voices in the dark.

The language is unknown

But the meaning is understood.

Darkness hides the players

But not the play

As it is a script followed

Since the beginning of time.

The cast of characters remains the same with only

The players changing.

The truth of the story portrayed is undeniable, and

Is perfected in the casting of souls when the sounds of their voices gather and

Eternity resides in the single second of Midnight.

3/1/18

Heart Echo

That which I love the most has turned to

The very heart of disappointment.

 

My feelings won’t leave me alone, they float through my heart

Like ripples in a tidal pool driven by the winds of chance and change.

 

The ripples in the pool run together, sometimes increasing their strength and depth and

Other times cancelling each other out in a wash of sadness.

 

It is in these flat times, these times of cancellation,

That my heart is empty and alone.

 

It hears the sound of the ocean echoing against its walls but …

 

There are no answering beats.

My Mind

 

My mind has become my enemy,

One that shares this space inside of me but cares not for my well-being.

It turns night into day, lust into love, wants into envy,

Truth – my truth – into lies.

It whispers in my left ear, words

My right side, it knows, will reject.

In the beginning, my human beginning, my mind

Was my friend, my ally, my confidant, but no more.

 

So I spend my time sitting and focusing on my

Return to that initial, eternal being,

 

And when that process is complete,

My mind will return to its natural state as my life navigator and soul companion.

Its taunting will stop, its search for drama will cease,

Its creation of a hundred hurtful scenarios a day will end,

And once again, as it was in the beginning,

It will become my friend.

 

Wind-Song

 

It is almost gone now,

Sadly diminished.

Only the hard and tough oaks

Remain to carry the song.

They sway less and less as

There is not much left to catch the wind.

But the wind still blows, it comes in waves and churns the ocean of trees.

One tree after another reacts to the wind’s hand, its push, its power.

Some bed in a flurry of dancing of limbs,

Some hold their ground, refusing to bend to the will of the wind.

The wildness of the wind comes in stages,

Craziest at the tree tops,

More subtle midway down with only a modicum of movement

Just feet above the ground.

I’ve often wondered if their roots feel the pull and tug of the wind. 

Are they dying to let go of the earth and fly away?

And when the leaves have all fallen, the wind’s song fades completely,

Losing its soft voice.

The summer’s soft song is replaced by the harsh clacking of naked branches and

The howling of frozen limbs in the dead of winter’s endless nights.

I hate to see the leaf song go,

I will miss is warmth and rustling.

But I will hold its song within,

Deep within, and sing it to myself in the dark time to come

When all in solemn stillness sleeps.

 

All the Light of a Million Suns

 

His hands are weightless

His smile, eternal.

 

His eyes hold all the stars in the universe,

All the light of a million suns.

 

His energy charges every cell in my body and

His love powers and drives my nightly dreams.

 

When he speaks to me, his words feel like a warm soft blanket

Draped  with love over my shoulders.

 

His voice comes to me in the silence of meditation telling me to stop,

To let it all go.

 

He tells me that good will only come to me

After I throw out and reject the darkness.

 

He watches in silence and sadness as

I try but fail over and over…

 

He knows he can’t do it for me.

I know I can’t do it for myself.

 

 

To Be Remembered

 

Even this has passed,

But all too soon.

It has left yet

Is not forgotten.

It remains in touches

Scents and feelings,

In bright white smiles

Hiding the truth.

Soft kisses smother the sadness for

What could have been.

And so it has become only a tool

To be used, a means to an end.

 

Now it is nothing more than a silence to be heard, and

A touch to be remembered.

  

Unnoticed

 

The magic of the night.

The brilliance of its darkness, the darkness of its light.

My soul is deep in the arms of midnight

Too deep to see,

To blind to know, with cries

Too silent to be heard.

I am astounded by the simplicity of the night,

But shocked by its truth.

So much time has passed with too little thought.

Now it is gone,

Forever to remain  – unnoticed.

Owls

They are nothing less than silent, swooping, gliding,

Magic,

Whose calls echo through bare spring trees

And color my nights with beauty.

One calls and waits.

The answer to come when it will.

With each call, the distance lessens between their

Voices in the night.

That which fills my night heart with light and joy,

Fills the hearts of others with fear.

It is the fear of ending.

An ending that comes out of the sky

In silent, swooping, gliding, magic.

The magic of beauty or,

The magic and freedom of death.