I’d
need a dump truck to haul away
Each lingering scrap of hurt and pain
How do I learn to let it go?
So I won’t keep being wounded so
Sock it away in a dusty corner,
Like every other numbed accepting mourner?
Fear wells up within my heart
Bursting, about to tear me apart
Mop the floor, take out the trash
Each memory is a stinging lash
The sun shines and I feel the wind blow
I plant some seeds and hope they’ll grow
Life goes on, the earth is renewed,
Can I balance in this attitude?
Make room for love, but try not to cling
What can I clean out this spring?
I was a vessel; love grew in me
Painfully, gladly I set it free
Half my life is spent in yearning
The tears pool and set my eyes burning
I choke them down, wash another plate
The clock screams, It’s getting late!
Dust the photos on the bookshelf
Blinders on — I won’t remind myself
Open the windows, open the door
Let light in, watch hope soar
Up to the clouds past the cardinal’s wing
I pray to the sun for the life it will bring
The same light burns inside of me
Does it shine through? Does anyone see?
Soon all the rooms will be neat and tidy
Will my love keep burning, will it be mighty
Enough to heal my broken heart?
Strong enough not to be torn apart
Will he ever come and say, “I love you, too
And I love the children that you grew.”
Will he hold me, gently, as we dance?
Resurrecting each other with romance?
I’ll keep cleaning; I’ll watch the wheel go
round
I’ll hear the small voice inside me resound
I love you, I love you, I love you, it’s true
And I’ll know who I’m talking to
Tell me, do you hear it, too?
I originally wrote this after another failed dating attempt, when all the frustrations of my single-mom life threatened to boil over — it was supposed to be song lyrics but works well enough as a poem. To me it addresses a few principles, most obviously the inherent worth and dignity of each person, especially myself, and the interconnectedness of the natural world and our often minutiae-driven lives (spring, rebirth, cleaning, the return of the sun). (1,7)