Poetry

Share the poetry of your healing journey in the “Leave a Comment” section below, and I will post your poems on this page. If you wish to be anonymous, just indicate so. Thank you for your courage and generosity in sharing your work, which I will hold with love in the heart of this community. XO, Sedna

I. Night Shatters by Anonymous Daughter

She comes at night after
my hair so neatly combed and
my face blotted with rose oil
rests. day ceases her tumbling
like water over needs and shoulds and
lists of what is most important. I tuck
night snugly about the corners of our bed
the job well done to my right and emotional
recovery on my left. by day I am a woman
who commands life like a chariotress.

as sleep overtakes I tread deeper into dark
spiraling first into relief then opening the heavy
door, chains rustling as it slams open
releasing the dank of memory. she waits beyond.
perfectly ironed clothing and orderly plans silence
her daily but never cure. my day-self descends.
she lurches from the mildewed cellar of my
history with her same question I am unable
to answer: How could they not love?

She shows me her palms that soothed his
childhood weeping and with which she carried
food to the sickened mother who now scorns.
useless evidence. upon her palms is the only
place these forgotten scenes have meaning.
my mortal heart copies her heart’s pattern
sending pounded copper beats to my brain
hammering me awake. gasping.
I motion to the door. she refuses.
I stretch out my hand. she turns.
stubborn in her desire for truth: naming the irrational.

believing answers will come, she waits.
wish upon wish their faces at the door
loving her as she believed they did once before
but do no more. I race from the cellar
and let darkness cover her. pull dawn
in close and scribble today’s list
look in the mirror at who I have constructed.
over morning coffee raise her from the dead
dead beliefs. dead hopes. dead dreams.
with every remedy for suffering
I lure her closer to what survived in me.

 

II. A Dream on December 31, 2015

A new year dawns as I lie sleeping, dreaming of mother. In the dream there is a park bench sitting upon the stump of an ancient oak before an ocean beach. The sea churns before us, but the bench is tied down securely. On this bench is where she and I will remain, not agreeing, not healing, not even speaking, but merely existing together as mother and daughter. When I awaken I feel a release that I have been hoping for–my subconscious mind has orchestrated this healing image for me, that of the eternal sea (deep subconscious emotion) unable to drown or move either of us, but I am safe there in its presence, safe next to my broken and lost mother, safe accepting  that I am her daughter and, despite her cruelty and rejection, there remains a part of her and a part of me that acknowledges our bond, our connection. The past cannot be reconciled or dismissed, but something ancient and deep remains between us, that created us, and that ancient bond I can accept as enough of what remains of my mother. The overwhelming grief from my past is over and this serene acceptance has settled into my bones from the grace of the Universe and my own blessed soul. Blessed Be!

 

Poem #2 from Claire

Where are you mother?
I miss you so.
I loved you and trusted you
To always be there for me.

Where are you mother?
Time has flown so quickly
Since we last spoke.
And now I am older, as are you.

Where are you mother?
I cry myself to sleep,
Feeling the pain and anguish
Oh so deep.

Where are you mother?
You don’t care?
I miss a family
That was never there!

Where are you mother?
Oh, I see…
The mother I wanted
Lives inside of me.

Poem #3 from Andrea

Tiger Lily

I had been ignoring the other lilies
in the garden, thinking that in preventing my cat
from nibbling on the more subdued lilies
the lilies of the valley of feline death
my cat would stay safe
I had forgotten about the tiger lilies
more dominant in the garden
I had relaxed the leash for a moment
turning my gaze to smile at a difficult neighbour
and show her I was not a threat
Suddenly, I saw my cat’s mouth disturbing
a tiger’s slumbering green reach
and pulled her away
Fortunately, minutes later, my cat heaved
her stomach instinctually knowing
You tell yourself: “You’re being paranoid”
“Everything is fine,” “She’s your friend”
I had invited my sister for midday tea
expecting pleasant feelings over biscuits and jam
In truth, her smiles a tiger bearing fangs close to her prey
the tea cups direly insufficient to contain the brew
I had always thought she was superior to me
in every way that counted: prettier, smarter, sweeter
I tried to distance myself, talked about my strengths, assets, possessions
job, friends, home, neighbourhood
puffing myself up
She wanted her little sister back
that frightened, weakened girl overpowered by five
not the big person who sat before her
Today I took some shears to each tiger lily
paring down the leaves, not letting them extend
beyond the garden border fences
If I have trouble sleeping, I will count vanquished tigers

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