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I see. On healing the mother... a poem by Veronica Farmer

11/8/2015

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Picture
Suddenly Awake
in the quiet dark hours
Feeling her
Sitting next to me
I see...

The orange and brown flowers
of her mini dress
so perfectly sewn
Her hands anxiously smoothing the fabric down
through time

White thighs
And dark piled hair
An exhausted 1960s goddess

I did ask
Before I slept
Why the hunger...
inside?

Here she is
a weight at the end of my bed
sitting here

The answer to my question

My mother
young child woman
overwhelmed
away from her family
and all she had ever known

The too small infant
on her lap
dependant and starving
watching silently
her every move
having learned fast
​within hours of life

that crying
would only create more distance


She had felt alone
this mother
in this strange town

Her entrapment
And society's expectation
of pristine folded nappies
pegs swinging on a rusty clothesline
the need to perform
overtaking her
with mind crushing anxiety

Fear evaporated
her milk
And made her desperate
to run

The confused baby
Now a woman
smiles

I see why...

The deep hunger remained unresolved

I see why...

she left me.
And my attraction
to punishing her
and my own heart for knowing it

I had been seeking out places to starve
hoping unrequited love would
resolve this pain

A disconnected lover with back turned
more familiar
and desirable
than warm eyes and open arms


Until the seeing of the root of it
I held

a deep ache to reach fingers pulled away
to heal those who would recoil
from my touch

Meanwhile
I would kick away
and run from the ones

who would See me
too close and uncomfortable
this more enveloping love

Knowing this now
deep in my belly 

I get it

I forgive
this young woman
and her too soft skin
eyes lined with bitter tears and smudged black kohl

I forgive 
her trauma
And her raw emotions
As she slumps here
stuck in time

A shadow at the end of my bed

I reach my now adult arms
to soothe her
and provide comfort
touch nose to forehead
In a slow breath
Cradle her cheek against my shoulder
Warm hand on the small of her back

I can hold her
This way
gently
as long as it takes
heal this wound
and
hold myself

My own dear child's legs
spaghetti wrapped in mine
pin half of me to the bed

As I release the mother
And forgive us both
I understand why
I gain so much comfort in my son's warm body

His fragrant skin next to mine
comforts
I know its truth
the way his eyelashes lay against his cheek
fills my heart
and a rich ocean deep in my being
a love

she has never known

The ancient resistance
A fishing line and hook in my heart
pull out now
The distrust
rips away
finally...

I may now receive love
lightly
And know a free and more simple life

It's not too late...
To start again.

​

All Rights Reserved Veronica Farmer
www.angelsrestqld.com
​www.veronicafarmer.org
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    Lioness poet

    Veronica Farmer is an Amazon Best selling Author and Poet.  Her book  Made Beautiful by Scars- Transformation Stories is a book of raw human inspirational stories that help readers find their truth, their "fierce" behind life scars. When she is not writing, Veronica is a renowned intuitive Healer and therapist at her Healing clinic on the Gold Coast, Australia.  

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