Saturday, 29 October 2016

When I lost

by Catalina Claussen

When I lost a sense of home
You shared yours with me:
A little girl with a great big heart
And a view of the mountains, the wide-open sea

When I lost my identity
In a storm of self-doubt, fearing the unknown and . . .
You heard me and held a sacred space of reflection.
When I thanked you,
You said, “I’m glad I could be here.”

When I lost the capacity
To give and receive sacred touch,
You lit a fire, gathered herbs,
Led me to the water
So I could touch joy
In your lips pressed against mine
In my fingertips caressing the broad expanse of your chest
Water droplets playing across your cheeks,
Igniting the image of you and me
In your sapphire eyes.

When I thought that joy was found wrapped in your arms,
You gave me a trail wrapped in fall color,
A mushroom hunt, and two little girls.
You gave me silent space
To find –

The joy rising inside me.