The gift

And so this time I let it happen

without defending myself

in disbelief

Feeling the blows

of his hatred for life, for himself

traverse me

 

The familiar feeling

shattering the density of being here on earth

losing hold of the ground

I find my balance within the danger

aquianted with and practiced

I want to run far and fast

 

But motionless

I wipe an evading tear

from the corner of my eye and once more

I become the resting place for his undealt with anger

 

Soul and body

tired to the bone of being broken deep within

for reason unknown and untold

I long to be held tightly, safely

to be buffered by love

but alone, I find the strength

 

to feel, but this time

my belly is rageless

tears and sadness take its place

welling up, groundless

I pack my bag

again….and wonder

when will this end?

 

I recoil within, telling myself

that I believe in magic

I believe in myself

but the words have lost their force

flimsily they waver faced with the storm of his brutality

 

Before sunrise when all is still

I leave the familiar, stifling warmth of the family home

close the gates

heading southwards again

but this time I am not running

 

….away is not the solution

for within it lies

scared, alone but strong

for I have finally recognised the ghost

that has haunted my relationships

since always

I close the door…firmly

 

Dover to Calais

the ferry’s movement mirrors my inner trembling

comfortingly

a shattered existence

holds little meaning anymore

here or there its all the same…empty!

 

My spirit rides the waves

peacefully rocking itself

not wanting to arrive on firm ground

that demands a commitment to some sort of life

that is supossed to make sense

where there is none

 

The sense lies within

the journey towards healing reveals the magic

a cycle is in completion

like the sun’s revolution around the earth

today is my birth day

I am my own midwife

and I choose to live

 

Cracking open old rigid patterns

the moment is right

to release the pain from the space

created from the crumbling of the walls

that hide the self

that now emerges effortlessly

 

his violence gifted my birth,

which is itself a gift to the self

newborn, I wait for noone to love me

I myself will fill the inner space

with warm, ripppling tenderness

I myself will pour gentle, caressing affection over

my tired body

 

There will be no room for violence as love will fill all

Today is my birthday and I am born !

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6 Comments

  1. Janet said,

    December 2, 2014 at 10:19 am

    Thank you Cathy. I just came here to read your poem. So touched in so many ways. Glad to have found your site here and to be able to stay in touch and read more of what you share. Happy Birthday.

  2. Little Feather (Gina) Gruwell said,

    December 2, 2014 at 2:53 pm

    Whew…a poem of this season for myself as well. I have always called it an anniversary, but you have opened my eyes to a different reality. A Birth Day! Thank you, humbly.

  3. FL said,

    December 2, 2014 at 4:06 pm

    Je ne suis pas sûre d’avoir saisi chaque mot à sa juste valeur avec mes problèmes d’anglais …. mais je pense avoir compris l’essentiel et ça m’a à la fois glacé le sang en comprenant la douleur traversée et aussi bouleversée et émue. Et ce qui compte c’est la renaissance certes mais ce que tu as traversé t’a aussi permis d’être qui tu es aujourd’hui et tu es une belle personne.

  4. December 2, 2014 at 7:50 pm

    Bon anniversaire belle cathy, merci d’être celle que tu es! et c’est un texte magnifique malgré ce qu’il contient.

  5. December 5, 2014 at 3:27 pm

    Happy Birthday Cathy,
    How many if I can ask?
    I am now 68, amd when well do not feel it.
    Lots of love, have fun
    Vivian


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