Guidance

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communication, compassion, emotion, fears, flowers, harmony, healing, heart, journey, metaphor, nature, poetry, prose poetry, self-knowledge, therapy

Image: Google Images

Guidance

When I’m floundering fixedly on facing fears; fully aware of my shortcomings, I find you pointing proudly in the direction that I should go. Don’t you know that if I go, I go with the knowledge that I am not enough out there on my own? My needs are not necessarily manifold, but many are they and they won’t go away without first feeding that part of me which hungers for your staunch support; stepping in line with me.

So when you point, please don’t point with those elegant finely forbidding fingers. Instead, firmly hold my hand, grasp it lovingly and lead me along the path where the bluebells grow, dancing in freshly fallen snow, in the chill wind of April’s noon-day sun.

~mew

Father

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90th Birthday, abuse, anger, child abuse, communication, compassion, forgiveness, healing, heart, hurt, prose poetry, sadness, self-knowledge, therapy

Father

I know so little about you. I do regret that and I wonder if it is possible to go back while there is still time. But is there still time? And if there is, what would I ask you and would you answer me truthfully, or would you continue to evade my curious, questionning heart,confuse, abuse, lose me in that maze, that maze that you constructed, stiff, stifling, solid walls around you, saying “keep out!”.

Who mothered you? Who fathered you? Who were your friends? Who struck you? Where did your rage come from? At whose hands did you learn to fight, bite, keep tight, never lose sight of the anger, hold it, nurture it, feed it, plead with it to keep you safe, safe from the hurt and the pain which surely must have followed you doggedly in your formative years?

My tears, my fears, the passing years, heaped in a pile in a bundle in the centre of my heart. I keep meaning to have a clear out, but I don’t have the strength to tackle that bundle, so I trundle along in the hope that one day soon, I’ll march in, take hold, unfold all those offending garments, toss them into a place where I can see them for what they are: questions, questions with no answers. No answers.

I have known you for years untold and yet I do not know you. You have been in my heart, never too far apart, lingering languidly upon my lips, in my thoughts, in my prayers and layer after layer of you is impressed upon my being. I need to forgive myself for not getting to know you. I need to forgive you for not letting me get to know you.

~ mew

The Blue Door

Tags

approval, Blue door, colour, discovery, door, heart, poem, poetry, prose poetry, recognition, therapy

Image – courtesy of TheCrazyBagLady

The Blue door

My head is very clear today. Not jumbled or stifled or even unclear. If I focus on the things that are important to me, I will come through fine. This is not a race or a competition, I feel it is an opportunity to open doors that have been closed to me for a very long time. Which doors have been closed to me? Well there’s a door which is coloured light blue with a white door bell and a black knocker. It is regal looking as if it belongs in a palace. I’m not sure what’s behind that door, but I am very interested to open it and have a good look.

I’m pushing it now, but it is stiff and I really have to put my whole body against it. It gives and flies open! The room is dark, but once my eyes are focused, I can see shapes. There is a heart. It is red and pulsating and vibrant. It fills the room. The glow of promise and dreams gets brighter and it has a perfume: one that I do not recognise. But it makes me want to breathe in deeply until every part of my being is filled with it, and I look around in wonder to see what else there is within these walls.

I feel a sadness that I am only now discovering what lies behind the light blue door. But tinged with that is hope, hope that this room with its pulsating heart will always be available to me. I close the door, and touch my own heart: it leaps with recognition and approval.

~ MEW

Day Five: Fog, Elegy, Metaphor

Tags

compassion, elegy, ethereal, fog, heart, metaphor, mist, poem, poetry, touch, Writing 201, writing 201 poetry

It’s day 5 of Writing 201:Poetry and the assignment is to use the following in a poem:

Today’s prompt: fog
Fog. Today’s word prompt can be taken in so many different directions: condensation on your car’s window. An eerie landscape (or streetscape) at dawn. Your glasses as you enter a warm room from the cold outside. The mental state of confusion, forgetfulness, or dementia. How will you introduce fog into your poem today?

Today’s form: elegy
Today’s form, the elegy, can trace its history all the way to ancient Greece. It started out as a poem that could be about almost any topic, as long as it was written in elegiac couplets (pairs of verse, with the first one slightly longer than the second). Over the centuries, though, it became something a bit more specific: a (more often than not) first-person poem on themes of longing, loss, and mourning

Today’s device: metaphor

Not Alone

I’m not alone here where I stand
in fields of green my friend
You promised you would always stay
close by no matter where I am

If I could touch your warm hand
And feel your white breath
Rising slowly upon the cold morning air
Glimpse your misty presence near

I would raise my eyes to the sky above
My hesitant heart would laugh
And my soul, ethereal fingers outstretched
Would touch your face once more

~ MEW

Tree of Life

Tags

art, blogging, care, child, children, F.G.M., heart, poem, poetry, tree, wisdom

Beautifully said!

Violence Is Never The Answer

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abuse, awareness, blogging, child abuse, compassion, cruelty, damaged, heart, prose, reblogged, spanking, violence

Stephen D Jennings post “Violence is Never the Answer” has prompted me to reiterate and reinforce my view. My best Christmas present of all would be to know that everyone would subscribe to this. This and my last post are really depressing, I know, especially as this is a time when we’re filled with anticipation for good times over the festive season. But I hope everyone will see that my heart is in the right place. We need to keep sending this message until it is finally heard.