I know you

I know you. 

You are sadness. 

You are the sadness that I forget is still there. 

You are grief. 

You are the grief that turns my hands to ice, constricts my chest, shortens my breath, clouds my mind and stares unblinking through my eyes. 

You are the grief that while I speak and smile and continue my conversation, threatens to claim me.

You are the sadness that is lodged awkwardly in my solar plexus that wakes me up at night, yet has the power to paralyse me by day. 

You are the grief that lingers and trails behind what should be straightforward conversations.

You are the grief that I acknowledge, but by whom I will not be defined. 

I have stood strong inspite of you and have learnt strength because of you. 

Through your pain, I have learnt compassion. 

Yes, I have learnt strength, courage and wisdom. 

When your tears come and they are not wanted, I have learnt how to calmly conquer you and put you in your place. 

Grief, you are a part of who I have become. We must learn to walk together respectfully. 

But I will be your master grief, you cannot have me. 

You do not own me. 

It is me that owns you.

Advertisements

God, are you listening?

 

God, are you listening?
I am worn out from my grief.
My eyes are sore and swollen
and I cannot find relief.

God, why aren’t you listening?
Many nights tears drench my bed.
A continual ache is throbbing
throughout my body and in my head.

God, have you forgotten me?
Why do you hide when I need you most?
My soul, like sand, is scattered by the wind.
Though my heart beats, I am but a ghost.

God, have you forsaken me?
Why do you feel so far away?
I need refreshment and encouragement.
For my strength is dried up like sun-baked clay.

God, can you hear me?
Each night I cry out for your help.
I thought that you might rescue me.
I feel so alone and by myself.

God, why do you ignore my pleas?
I am out of depth in this deep water.
I am no match for this mighty sea.
Be a rock for me, your humble daughter.

God, do you even exist?
Answer me please, for sanity’s sake.
My faith is all but vanished though I see you
in the mountains, stars and mist laced lake.

God, can you please be merciful?
For I am in great distress.
You say that you will watch over me
even in times of fear and great sadness.

God, have you rejected me?
I am shrivelled, waiting for your blessing.
I wish to be like a freed, captive bird,
released from her cage, so utterly depressing.

God, are you punishing me?
Is there something wrong that I have done?
Send your light and your truth,
let me not by my thoughts be undone.

God, will I find peace one day?
Where does my shadowy path lead me?
Do not abandon me in my hour of need,
stay beside me through my journey.

God, will you rescue me?
So that I do more than merely cling to this barren life.
I wish to be like a thriving olive tree,
fruitful, beautiful, blossoming and alive.

God, do you remember me?
Have you been with me since my birth?
Did you see me growing in my mother’s womb?
Well, I wish to lead a life of integrity, positivity and worth.

O silent God, why aren’t you listening?
My plea is founded in fragile, humility.
It’s me, a valiant, warrior woman,
asking for help to conquer this curse of infertility.