Thursday, June 18, 2009

How poems can say more sometimes

Before everyone starts worrying this is an old poem I wrote at the time of split. I was urged to share it with you all. I think it covers more precisely what I was feeling at the time and as one of my lovely blog followers termed it how The Man went from being The Man to The Muse.

Whilst it was written about The Man (and I would stress I don't feel that way now) it resonates with me more now in respects to being about that missing that connection with oneself inside. In short that search for Home that I am beginning to find.

Anam cara is Gaelic and means soul friend. It is a teacher in the most ancient of senses. Someone that looks inside of you and sees you for who you are and unlocks your true path and potential in whatever way circumstances dictate. An anam cara is a mirror to the true you. John O Donohue wrote a fabulous book about it called Anam Cara for those of you who are interested.

So to the poem - I hope you like it.

I miss

I miss that fire. That light.

I miss looking in you and seeing me


I miss that feeling of being encircled by you and your words

That danced around me like fairies leading a child

through the doorway to the magic beyond.

I miss the unspoken stories that ran around me like spinning lights,

fulfilling me with their colours, entrancing me with their glow.

That diaphanous orb of you draped around me like silk in a breeze,

tucking me in, every night, for another journey to the faraway lands.

Of me sitting up in wide-eyed wonder. Waiting, eager.

You let me go. My anam cara.

Pointing to another way I didn’t want to grow.

Now I spin instead. Not knowing which way is forward.

Alone in a secret space.

I miss that yellow energy. Of the gentlest winter sunshine

Resting in the warmth of faith

Resting in the gift of the only time there is

You and me floating on a sea

I miss that feeling I could run through the valleys of you and never stop.

Never reaching the core of what and where you were.

Never having a map for you as your lines moved forever,

And never caring

Just having endless, wonderful journeys

to the centre of you.

Happy to loose myself.

Wanting to lose myself.

For every time I did

I would find something new.

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