6 poems for when we are healing
Life is about moving toward what calls us, but also tending to what may have been untended in the past. If you are in the process of healing, here are some poems to support you. Be gentle with yourself. All will be well.
1.
THE EDGE
I love your broken edges,
the way you spill into the sea,
with your stalwart cliffs eroding
you are beautiful.
Allow your collected stories
to tumble on the shore,
wearing corners, softening edges,
becoming treasure.
Under the watch of the headland,
weigh the past in the palm of your hand.
Keep the good for the memory box,
gift the rest to the sea.
2.
THAW
After the freeze comes the thaw
and though the warning signs were plenty:
ice groaning deep in the belly,
the cracks that showed on the surface,
the feel of things beginning to slip-
despite that, the speed of it,
everything freed up
slicing and skidding
and shifting,
that speed, after standing still for so long
takes the breath away.
This isn't a disaster. It's natural.
Move to higher ground and watch
the ice floes make their way downstream,
what was frozen getting ever smaller.
From above it's only a change of state,
only water, running free.
3.
LISTEN
Don't placate the parts of you
that want to scream and cry,
they don't need to be filed down,
these are the sharp points
on which our life catches,
showing us what hurts
showing us what's stuck
showing us why we need to
scream and cry.
So, scream and cry.
4.
GUARDIAN
The idea is appealing
With one clean cut
you could rise up in a new life.
It's tempting
to slice through the undergrowth,
concrete the marsh,
to level the uneven.
Hold on-
this is not just swamp you tread
this is fallen forest,
rich with the seeds of your life to come.
Let it emerge softly.
Look for an opening
a gap between trees.
where the light falls, playing,
inviting you in.
Put down the scythe-
go gently, let the clearing appear.
Love yourself as land,
and see how you grow
from The Land Will Hold You (2023)
5.
THE FOREST
There is no substitute
for feeling what calls to be felt,
no shortcut through the forest.
Each tree an experience,
each interaction, its own fall of light,
the ground itself littered with things
that ask to be known by name.
It's not just loss
that hides in the undergrowth, but joy,
and suppressed and dampened hopes.
The forest is alive with all that you are.
Hush now, listen.
from The Land Will Hold You (2023)
6.
FREED
It was when the sun broke through
and danced through every raindrop,
turning gloom into something transcendent,
that I wondered
what if all that's hard
just washed away?
What if the light came down
and freed us all
from guilt, regret and second-guessing?
What would there be
except light shining through water,
and each of us dancing?