SOC Writing_ 24th July 2020

A Bold Seeker           

This morning, the sea was frothing. It was soft, skinny and gentle, yet rough and raw – but I could hear the bubbling on the surface and this gave it a tender sort of welcome – like: I am soft here – fall on me – I won’t break you. And I did, I felt the softness of she and the memory of her in Australia – my grandmother – the one who called me darling, the one who still calls me, darling and she woke me this morning. Normally I ‘start’ out of bed, driven by an internal shock treatment to begin my day – sorrow of sorrows – this, this is not how to live – so I lay listening to darling, listening to softness – willing a new way to begin the day with an internal rolling out of bed in attunement to that which cares for me, that which buoys me up, has my back – the ancestral kindness of a women who mostly lived thousands of miles from me. Bless you Gran, bless the softness of your skin, the gentleness and depth in your eyes – the straddling the worlds of pain and joy – the Kimberly wild flowers in your hair –and a lover who cared for you by your side. In your yellow VW pop-top you scaled mountains of grief, left behind mayhem and death – chocked up the phlegm of a past never worth repeating – and you come to me now in my hour of need and hold what I find no one else can or would or wanted to - being your own fucking woman – against man and god, you made your own god and watching me ascend the church stairs  still held me as I faced my own gods and have now left them. You are a stalwart - a fucking sanctuary in my mind and heart – a beast of strength that tells me to fight for my heart - to be fierce when all seems like caving in and retreat – your dark eyes have pierced steel and stone and ask me softly to remain in this place - to pursue what she couldn’t – to take ground further up and further in. I am so grateful – astounded that you have turned up just now – to beckon me in. xox.