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Resurrection
July 31, 2011 by Pamela Northcutt
Resurrection
~ by Eileen Rosensteel
I plucked out my wing feathers-they said I belonged on the ground.
I stopped dancing and singing-they said I had no rhythm.
I silenced myself-no one was listening.
I stitched my eyes shut-So I didn’t have to see what was happening.
I dug my own grave and lay in it-So I didn’t have to feel the pain.
So I could be at peace
In the emptiness.
There in the pit
I found my bones
In the marrow of my bones
There was strength
In the pulsing of my blood
There was rage
In my flesh-Desire
I clawed my way out of that grave
Using my strength, rage and desire.
Carefully I cut away the stitches
To see the truth
I whispered my words to myself
I started to sway and hum
To my own music
Now I am gathering feathers
~ taken from We’Moon Calendar 2011
http://paminthegarden.wordpress.com/2011/07/31/resurrection/#comment-312
Wow!
Powerful indeed! That poem addresses the collapsing one has or can have when diagnosed. One can, and many do, slip into the pain and a psychic "death" when nothing has really changed but the words. And death (real) can ensue if collapsing in to the "verdict" is what happens. To climb and claw out of it, to reawaken and fight for the aliveness on a cellular level, a mental level and a psychic level is to resurrect, to live an even more fuller life. A great poem!