Listen, Love…
Someday, a bright red pain
A red unlike any you’ve worn
May come searing through your heart
And sit inside you
Stunning the senses
Replacing your freedom to be.
I hope not, but I do, but I hope not
But that day
No matter what fairytales I tell you
I won’t be able to hush it away
Like I did your bruises and tears
The fevers and fogs all these years.
So, you need to know
I’ll be right outside the door
That we both shall build between us:
You, to be alone with your self
Me, to push you to it
And wait.
Learning has curves for a reason, my love
Once, we learn to let go for our own sake
Then, spiralling up, for the other’s.
So we’re freed, spiral by spiral
Alone but together, together but alone.
Dear Woolgatherer,
Your memory brought me here. We wrote a year ago but it feels an age. Your loving well wishes stayed with me all year, and I have visited your wonderful blog several times when life allowed me. I only wished I spent more time here, where my heart’s language is spoken. I hope to spend more time here this year. I want you to know that I visited, and each visit brought me much hope and joy. Thank you for sharing it with me.
I have become familiar with that “bright red pain” this year. But no worries. Just the occasional brush of life against our hearts. May it be temporary like it always is. A recent sadness brought me here suddenly, and your lovely poem greeted me. It gave me peace and reminded me that though loved ones seem far in painful times, they’re still there.
I pray you are well, dear Woolgatherer, and all those whom you love. I wish you a year of eternal blessings, of health and hope, of time stretched out and filled with all things beautiful. God bless you always.
With love and gratitude,
EastoftheSea
My Dear EastoftheSea,
It is so, SO lovely to hear from you…! So beautiful and unexpected.
You crossed my mind lately a number of times. And I wondered if there was any reason behind me remembering you out of the blue… I think I know now. It was perhaps a signal for me to get in touch with you when you were in pain and visited this blog. Oddly, I have been going through certain life altering challenges myself these past few months, and haven’t been all there to process things properly. Or even to write.
But I am here now. If I can be a shoulder, tell me, let me in. Yes, I know the language of your soul. You’re home. And I am grateful that my writings gave you some measure of respite. I also know that this recent sadness you speak of, and all you’ve been through, will leave you with a soul-level confidence that’ll become yours forever. So, in a way, even as it passes, for it will, it is beautiful, my friend. For your sake, I wish this pain finishes what beauty it came to carve out in you.
Once again, I am so very happy that you wrote. Do continue. It’s a wonder that we are here, even after this gap of two years, and still on the same page at a time when everything is shifting rapidly. This is a gift to be sure. Let’s not squander it.
I send you my love and a warm hug to hold your heart in. And my best wishes to your loved ones. All shall be well.
Yours,
Woolgatherer
Dearest Woolgatherer,
Your words came to me when I needed them most and your memory has always brought me a sense of wonder and peace. Thank you for your warm embrace after these long two years and loving welcome to this beautiful place. How true kindness must be and how strong sisterhood that it stretches across seas and continents, unfaded by time. I appreciate you so much and am surely blessed to know you.
The days can be heavy when feelings are felt so deeply. For a long time I’ve been in the between, wobbling from the uplifting to the dark. And often I feel as if I’m finally tipping over, but not on the side of peace. Darkness – sometimes I’m afraid I’ve become too familiar with it that I can’t let go, deciding all the while whether I can give it all away, the beautiful and the painful, to avoid any suffering. But I can still see the light, for knowing God and having found home in nature and the astonishing beauty of simple things, I can never be torn from them. Yes, there must be a beauty carving its way through us! There must be something real and un-temporary. Thank you for this reminder, dear friend. It is the truth my soul has always been trying to convince me of.
I pray for the same hope in the challenges you’ve experienced. I hope new paths have strewn before them, encompassed with new growth and self-love, with beauty and understanding that will fill these pages. I look forward to coming here to rest among your words and the wonderful artwork you share, and to write often.
With gratitude and warmest regards,
EastoftheSea
Dear Woolgatherer,
Your memory brought me here. We wrote two years ago but it feels an age. Your loving well wishes stayed with me all year, and I have visited your wonderful blog several times when life allowed me. I only wished I spent more time here, where my heart’s language is spoken. I hope to spend more time here this year. I want you to know that I visited, and each visit brought me much hope and joy. Thank you for sharing it with me.
I have become familiar with that “bright red pain” this year. But no worries. Just the occasional brush of life against our hearts. May it be temporary like it always is. A recent sadness brought me here suddenly, and your lovely poem greeted me. It gave me peace and reminded me that though loved ones seem far in painful times, they’re still there.
I pray you are well, dear Woolgatherer, and all those whom you love. I wish you a year of eternal blessings, of health and hope, of time stretched out and filled with all things beautiful. God bless you always.
With love and gratitude,
EastoftheSea
P.S. I apologize if I posted this in the wrong place or more than once. 🙂