Monday, 5 September 2011


As I lie, still,
the words come.
They come from the deep.
The depths of my being.

They flow through me,
emerging fully formed
and perfect
in the darkness.

The things I can't name
when I think about it.
The things I don't even know I know.
My soul speaking.
The wise woman talks.

She speaks words for me to share.
Things to tell,
Things I need to hear,
quietly, and only in the stillness.

All is calm. I can tiptoe away
and as I get up
my thoughts scatter,
shattered by the light of day,
fading like shadows
as I step out of the darkness.

The clarity I had disappears.
The words hide
in the corners of my mind.
Authentic expression of who I am
right now... gone.

Always, it seems like this.
Always, except this time.
Except for now.

How do I trap the words
so I can hold then up and
examine them in the light of day?

Write Mama, write.
Spill them out on paper
before you forget.
As soon as you have the chance

Some of it will stick.
Bring the fragments together.
Sew them and bind them
like a quilt.

Write and you will remember
what the wise woman said,
What your soul needs you to hear,
and to share.
Write, and hear the song of
the true voice within.

1 comment:

  1. Wow! I needed to read that today, especially after a disturbed night filled with half formed half remembered thoughts, seemingly profound at the time but as ever gone by morning.


    much love, Rach xxx