To heal
means to break open
apart
fragmented
lost in the chaos
until the quiet comes, the laughter, the returning ease and memories that lift you up
instead of dragging you under.
The cyclical dark and light come and go
crashing softly on the shores
until the seconds between the breaking wave and the backflow of the sea retreating
from the sand are enough to bring the sandpipers there to run
with their tiny legs, joyfully darting here and there to catch their dinner
until the next wave comes and they retreat
or meet the cascading saltwater head on.
To hear an audio version of this poem narrated by Liz Frisbee, please click the play button below.
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What a fine, strong poem to begin the year with. Thank you.
Beautiful.
Your last line is so perfect.
I have been concerned by the moments, days, lost to memory
(trauma amnesia)
and the moments, days, seared into it
(grasping for an explanation).
But healing involves remembering so much more
that has so long been hidden.
The pain protectively forgotten
a merciful fair price
for the joy retrieved.
Isabel Call
January 2, 2020
What a beautiful rendition of the grieving process.
Lovely imagery.
Thank you!