Letting out the chickens…
My life has undergone some drastic changes and I need to find a way to tell that story. The problem isn’t time or enthusiasm… I just don’t think I have the ability to put it into words. Not yet. It’s that big. It’s that beautiful.
But not all things are beautiful…
This is a poem I was sent recently. Another one from someone who would like to remain anonymous. Someone who managed to survive and get out of an abusive relationship but has to live with the fear of her children spending time with the same man… their father.
When I can write this well it will be time to tell my story.
SADNESS AND FEAR
My children, growing quickly into beautiful young adults
Are still my babies
Still trigger my instincts to protect them from harm and sadness
My instincts
To give them a beautiful world filled with love, colour, sunshine, happiness
And opportunities to discover and actuate their chosen potential
But their worlds are not always so…
Things I cannot control
Others that walk a different road in a different way
Throw black ink over the colour
Causing the colours to fade and block the sun
Some days even
Plunging their hearts into a completely dark place filled with sadness and fear
Where they stumble forward, hands stretched out to find a way
Away from dread, anger, self-doubt and responsibilities way beyond fitting their age
I watch, feeling helpless…
The ink
An acid that burns my heart
Painful tears from my choking throat
Adrenaline panicking through my veins
Thoughts racing through my mind
Scratching up the memories and filling me with the bitter aftertaste of my own fear and helplessness
But there is no way
To take them out of that place
I call my lover…
Hardly able to speak
He shares my distress in calm anger and disdain
Without dismissing my reality
He extends his arms around me
Neutralising the worst of my pain
And he helps me to see…
That we are not all mad
To trust the strength and wisdom that my children have
And the awesome power of love
He holds my hand
And my debilitating grief softens to a gentle sadness
That they have to learn these hard lessons
That many people never do
So young
My warm tears running down his chest
A balm to my own scars
Bringing me a step closer to my own peace
