Protection: A Poem

I don't usually blog this often, but when the poems come.... I woke up  with the beginnings of this one this morning, and wanted to get it down.  Then I did an I Ching reading in preparation for going to the hospital for surgery in a few weeks, and it completely validated what the poem needed to say.  Such synchronicities are worth paying attention to.

So, here's the poem:

All at once,

a hard shell

I never knew

surrounded me

cracked and fell

away in shards

tumbling to

the ground.

I pick up a piece

to learn its nature,

but it is clearly toxic.

I drop it to the floor

and carefully sweep up

all the pieces and

throw them away.

I feel tender, exposed,

like a newborn child.

No wonder I had difficulty

touching Spirit, encased

in a shell I must have erected

for my protection.

All the while, Spirit waited

for me to break through.

Suddenly, the question of protection

matters very little.

There is an opening, a softening,

a broadening clarity

about giving and receiving,

about what protection truly is,

about the significance of

an open heart.

Here are the ones worth my having an open heart for.

Woman with Cancer

In the middle of my 4th round of chemotherapy, I've finally been able to start writing again.  It's been a while!  The poem is raw and brand new.  The photo was taken this morning of me with a beautiful lei my friend Janis sent.

People do not want to look at

            women who have cancer.

Perhaps they are afraid that

            it is catching.

Perhaps they fall too far

            into pity.

Perhaps they are embarrassed

            by their fascination.

Perhaps it simply engenders

            fear or disgust.

But it is my body,

            and I cannot turn away.

This is what I see

            in the mirror, in the flesh:

Sudden aging, with

            new lines and wrinkles;

An almost bald head with

            a few wisps of clinging gray hair;

The loss of pubic hair,

            unexpected, yet logical.

A thinner body, thinner face,

            skinnier legs;

Dry skin, a loosening wedding ring,

            a careful, deliberate gait.

There is a resonance between

            how I appear and how I feel.

I call up strength from

            long years of introspection.

I straighten my spine, determined

            to walk the path

That has suddenly opened up

            before me,

The one I had no desire or plan

            to travel.

This is what I have been given,

            what is mine to endure.

If anyone chooses to really

            look at me,

Perhaps they will see a clearer and truer me,

            than they ever saw before.