This week has been a whirlwind of poetry. Suddenly, I find myself home again, writing. It’s been years since I’ve written like this. Yet the content beckons darker dreams, ones that I can only sometimes recall. I’m going to start posting them here. The one below I wrote just now. Every day I’m been churning out three or four, some are more distressing than others. Yet the process itself, this channeling, is cathartic and much needed. I don’t know what any of this means, and I hope I never will need to know the seed of truth, if there is one. That seems less important than the purging of the thing.
Garden
At night I find myself
digging, the sky thick
and starless
its velvet stroked skeletal
by limbs
birch, maple and oak
and oh, the willow how she weeps
for me, my spine curling toward the earth
young bones aching to return
dust and teeth and finger
nails, until nothing left remains
compost creased beneath these
pale half-moons, what a dirty girl
they say, my feet are bare as skin
better to feel the cool grains of this night
soil, better to keep going, hand over hand
a hole appears
deeper and deeper still
wait, my breath, until I step in
A divine burial, palms to heart
pour this grit over me, heaven’s rain return me
home
Published by lunargirl27
I am a writer and an artist, a teacher and a swing dancer (and a lover of all dancing); a woman who loves to dig in the dirt, talk to the flowers and sleep with the trees. I am an eternal student. Though I consider myself an introvert, my passion is finding true connection with others. I have lived with life-long chronic illness, and continue to struggle both with physical health issues, and bouts of depression and anxiety, sometimes debilitating. I am still reconciling my past with its effect on my present; learning to love the little girl who is still me, the one who carries our trauma. And I am finally, FINALLY, starting to know what loving myself actually feels like (less like an article in a self-help magazine, more like a loving expansiveness of self and a union with others. I don't like that description at all, but for now I'll let it be. This will kill my perfectionist). I'm here because I want to share my experience, strength, and hope. Not because I want to save or fix you, but because I hope you will see a reflection of your own strength and ability to heal in my words. The bad news is that no one will do this hard, at times painful, self-exploratory work for you. It's a humbling process. The good news is that you are capable of seeking help, and you deserve the love, support, and understanding that will help you heal. I acknowledge here, my privilege of having access to emotional support resources. I know I am one of the lucky ones. Though we cannot see each other, I know a little piece of you, just as you know a little piece of me. Our stories may be different, but we understand a shared pain. Though the specifics belong to each of us alone, our healing comes from also being able to see the similarities. This is how we break out of our isolation. And even if none of this helps you, maybe something here will lead you to a path that can offer you some hope and healing.
Reach out anytime, I would love to hear from you.
View all posts by lunargirl27
my body speaks 