so many times, fallen down
after dark, i go up
into the tree tops
where i can be closest to you
i rest among the limbs
that lift me,
cradle me and my light
with the morning i give away
the light
and begin again
in the moon i see
the shadow of your smile
from some other time,
some other place
that falling star
it's just me
will you wait for me
at dawn?
This past weekend was Mother's Day weekend in the USA, where I'm from. Being a mother is an experience I've not had the joy of having. There are reasons why, mainly due to health issues on my part. It came down to a choice that had to be made. Children, or no children. I ended up saying, no. Could we have adopted, possibly. But the health issues would still have made that difficult too. It's a long story, complicated--as long stories often are. Heart-wrenching decisions. The hardest choice I ever had to make. I live with it daily and try to find a peace with it. It is not always easy.
My poem today is actually part of a longer piece, written after a dream I had. Over the years I've been visited by the spirit of my own unborn child. A little girl. She's about two years of age. Sometimes she has just appeared to me. Other times, this year, I have been able to commune with her via Shamanic journeying, which is a new part of my spiritual practice. It has been an amazing thing. It has helped me release some of the deeply painful emotions surrounding my choice, and the sorrow of never having my own little one. The message my spirit-girl brings me is often reassuring, comforting. She reminds me that I have other powers of being able to nurture--to care for and help nurture other people, animals, even myself. As I approach my 40th birthday later this year, I am beginning to experience some changes in my energy, changes in how I deal with things. The past has less hold on me.
Why am I telling you this? Because it's not always sunshine and roses here all the time. And because Mother's Day is the hardest day of my year. Most times, I cry. I often just find ways to get through the day, almost avoiding it in my own way. Avoiding, denying, the present moment and its goodness only creates more pain. This weekend, for the first time, I was able to greet this day and not cry. Will I cry next year? Who knows. Baby steps. These are my own baby steps. I am slowly learning that a shadow of a smile is a gift to me. It no longer needs to be my sorrow. Instead of my heart breaking for a lost love, I am learning to make room for more love to grow.
What are your dark days and shadows?
P.S. Today's image, last week's glorious Super Moon...

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