Spirit Blog

Personal reflections on a spiritual journey...

A Poem:

Sum Days

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This is the day I sit heavy, hunched, 

A fallen daffodil. 

Tears like winter rain 

Roll into puddles of worry 

Like prayers for chaos 

Swell on the kitchen table.

I see you, in your thirties, slumped here too. 

Deep breaths do nothing to soften tornados of Truth. 

Circles and spirals and cycles of it. 

I am born again. 

Birthed into the wretched routine I needed to know 

To be the me who has become me. 

Overcome me. 

I was alone and afraid. 

I made friends on the paper, 

Between syllables, 

Sisters who swept me into safety,

Into hours that ticked always, only 

Lavish love. 

The wooden door closed. 

Stuck with scratch-and-sniff stickers,

It shut. 

I cried and begged for that red apple. 

Just one red apple. 

But harvest hadn't happened

and the fruit wasn't ripe. 

Instead, 

Inside I was the one with rot, 

With bruises and bitter parts. 

Enzymes of your sadness seeped in me 

So your regrets became my reality. 

Your organs soaked in wine 

And my heart drowning in waves of numb. 

I taught myself early how not to feel,

How to cope with coming out of the womb, 

With the undone doing of coming home. 

Chocolate was the first word I learned to spell. 

I was schooled at the decorated dinner table:

Patterned china plates, cloth napkins, white lace,

Over an overflowing glass of scotch, 

With seventeen seasons of quiche,  chicken cacciatore, and butter. 

Blurred yet bold, 

It was clear that, 

"We get what we get and we don't get upset."

Reincarnated into the Now,  

Into the Know. 

But left decayed with memories that wreck this moment. 

The Present smells like sandalwood

Or cigarettes. I can't tell which. 

I remember when we held hands 

And you said, 

"I love you. 

Be happy." 

Yet, 

This is the day I sit heavy, hunched.