Grief Mountain

SOC Writing _ 30.3.21

Grief Mountain

All alone on the tops. One foot in from of the other – but all alone on this cold misty precipice. I am still angry and hurting from your trauma - from your wounding wound – how can flesh and mind create such a wall of pain? What is my pain to own? How do I open to my own grief? Where are my tears upon this rocky hill? Alone inside the loneliness birds circle and squawk for my heart, for my heart – the luscious interior flesh where I still beat solid – where I have been made in secret and skilfully wrought in the lowest places on earth – they call for my heart – sometimes off line – sometimes shrouded in brittle but wickedly sharp amour – like amor – but lol, its not quite the same – or is it? Where my fragility most secretes itself there is behind my bold, beating heart – longing to be set free into a bigger field - longing to reach the furthest galaxy and find that star like soul to call me into the grand future I dream for myself – where my walls are penetrated and in prostrate, penitence – receive the love that was mine all along – I forget myself. My child self that needs cuddles, needs to be told it’s ok when I fall, hurt the other, break the plate loudly on the kitchen floor – gathered up like a hen her chicks and brooded loudly over – I need this too – such was my mother’s temper and temperament that parts of me are locked up in fear – of invasion or abandonment. In coming home –there are miles and miles to go – and yet someone is working backwards – from the inside there is an excavation going on unbeknown to me – you, she – the women of the world have made their start upon this lost heart – filling it up with it’s sense of worth and pride – setting it back on fire like it was then it first fell to earth - when quasar-like it dipped and dove – in joy – in complete surrender to the earth it would call it’s home.