Prayer of the Desperate
She had crawled here on her knees
Over the sharp broken bones of her life.
She had come to bargain with every god she had ever heard named.
Bruised clouds closed around the moon
Golden leaves shivered
And she traded away every drop of goodness from her existence.
Her heart torn open
Lay beating on the cold earth
Her breath ragged from tears
Pounded the night air,
As her soul poured out in desperate pleading,
That her son might live.
Seonaid Green 2013
I wrote this 2 years ago, 4 years after the trauma, and it’s that time of year again when the memories come flooding back in. Something about the light, the colours, the scent and sounds creates a pattern which my brain can’t help but match with very difficult emotions and memories. At such times it’s as though I have been literally pulled back into the past, atleast that’s what my brain believes, and the emotions can feel suffocating and all encompassing. The world around me a bewildering mess.
These are times when mindfulness is especially helpful to me, allowing me to come back into the present, into the here and now, where all is well and nobodies life hangs on a thread. Trauma can and will pull us back into the darkness of chaos, but we don’t have to stay there believing the stories of our mind. Instead we can pull ourselves back into the present moment, and immerse ourselves in the new unfolding stories of now. The stories created by our bodily senses, woven fresh on each new breath, carrying us forwards into our life. Calm in the knowledge that the past has indeed passed. Who knows what lies ahead, but right now there’s a freshly brewed pot of coffee filling the kitchen with rich temping smells, and freshly baked bread to be savoured and eaten. This moment is a good one, so I think I’ll stay with it for now, and enjoy its pleasures.