Thinking of my discussion about creating alternative ways of being family and our respective journeys toward healing in our families reminded me of one poem I wrote about someone’s experience coming to peace with issues in their family.
I hope it blesses you!
Your progressive redneck preacher,
Will the Circle Be Unbroken?
Silent he sits, surrounded by shouts approaching crescendo
that resound about him, echoing from hard-wood kitchen floors,
He hides, shivering behind piled boxes with nowhere to go,
yet forted in by abandoned piles of paper, spread door to door
scraps of failed get-rich schemes and shopping sprees that flow
about him like chaotic yet protective moat.
Perhaps if no-one sees, he can go chameleon,
become invisible in that chaotic river
covered by the litter, with no one
to hit, chase, or holler
like a whisper
under the shouting voices
Then he looks and sees her, small and frightened
“Come close sister”
“My fort will shelter
Years pass, centuries it seems.
He stands, beard grizzling face
strong, tall, as he once dreamed
in another cluttered space,
The sounds of familiar shouting echoes
amidst streams of boxes, jewels, receipts
flowing like an avalanche on his soul.
Seeing the center, his heart skips a beat:
another child, not wizened by the years,
encircled by the trembling noise.
Hand reaching out, eyes on verge of tears
its mouth opens, in familiar voice:
“Mommy dearest, do you hear me?
Daddy dearest, do you see?
Where, O Where is my safety
sitting upon your knee?
Why am I so frightened?
Your voice ought to bring peace.
How I long for one to hold me;
instead I must run and flee”
The world spins, the ground falls
jaw dropping, I realize it is me.