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.