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I've recently run across some old poems...
I plan to add them to this poetry blog...
So, reader beware...
~*~
Unnamed: In honor of Alex
I know you cannot hear me
for your heartbeat stopped long ago.
I chose to stop your heartbeat,
I chose to stop your growth.
I never allowed you
to know the breezes of the fields
to see the beauty of the sun or snow.
In my ignorance I chose these things.
Were they right or wrong?
Honestly, I do not know.
Yet my pain runs deep today.
~my heart, it hurts~
~my tears, pour forth~
~this grief, it is for you~
In it I honor the life you once were,
the individual you may have been.
I can see you in my heart's eye:
an infant with dark hair,
deep brown eyes,
soft, smooth olive skin.
And if you were here now my love
I would hold you at my heart,
I would stroke your raven locks,
I would gently kiss your forehead,
I would cradle you at my breast,
I would nourish you, love you,
your essence I'd caress.
Oh, God!
Please honor the grief I feel!
Thank you for forgiveness,
thank you that wounds do heal.
Thank you for life you have blessed me with,
in spite of my erring ways.
Thank you as I offer this grief
as a sacrifice of praise.
And now I set within this sacred place
amidst nature's beauty, freedom, grace
among the rocks
the sun
the snow
the ponies that run wild...
The memory and life
of this
my unborn child.
07/04/06
I later named him Alex...
~*~
This poem is about an abortion I received at 19 years old around the fall of 1978 when I was W.O.W. Ambassador with The Way International...
As one can see by the date, this was written almost 28 years later, a time when I deeply grieved the loss...
I had had a reunion with the father; shortly thereafter I grieved deeply...
I decided to honor the life that was once in my womb with a private ceremony.
I bought some tokens at a local Good Will: a small blue tin with a heart on the middle of the lid, blue booties, and blue mittens.
My husband (who is not the father) and I held a private ceremony in one of my sacred wilderness spots -- near Mt. Rogers, VA, where feral ponies run free.
We hiked in from Massie Gap, carrying a foldable shovel. Shortly before one gets to Thomas Knob Shelter, we buried the tokens and sang Amazing Grace, one the father's (and our) favorite songs. As we hiked out, we took a break at a bench. We were graced with the presence of the ponies and a tiny newborn foal who approached us and said, "Hello..."
It was July 4, 2006...
I did not have a smart phone at the time and have no images from that day; the picture below is from 2017. The foal in the pic is older than the tiny one we witnessed on that sacred July 4th.
~*~
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| Mare & Foal, 2017 |
