this is love (or today has been a difficult day)

image © Mariann Martland

image © Mariann Martland

the 3am talking of secrets and history.
trauma uncovered, unfurled and held.
the memory of before,
letting down then letting go.
the unknown of spoken word
belonging to my mouth.
feeling it jolt and flow and burn.
the trust;
fragile, leaping, blind.
the words “i believe you”
resonating through ears,
then deafening.
exposed, vulnerable, alone,
but together.
the tightrope walk of being seen.


no sleep but insomniac spinning,
followed by little voices
asking for time, attention and love,
given freely,
energy rapidly depleting.
“i love you”s repeated,
inside and out
to and from the babes my sister bore.
little smiles and huge hearts;
mine breaking,
terrified for their safety
but a determination
that they do not see what i saw
and do see what i did not.
my internal vow renewed
that i will see them, hear them,
hold space for them,

a deep, yearning breath.
then quiet, but profoundly heard
goodbyes to my dearest one
beginning his next voyage,
(forcing my own)
one more trip around the sun,
waiting, reaching
for his hand again.
wanting quicker.
needing slower.
remembering time moves at pace, steadily.
tears locked,
self braced,
face poised
for unknown moments, days, months to follow.

the uncertainty
and underlying faith
that i know
i know
i know.
yet i don’t (and i do).
the pain in the healing.
the discovery in the loss.
the knowing in the mystery.
allowing myself
to be moved,
to be lost,
to be found.

to the breaking and the healing,
the longing and the connection,
the joy and the sadness,
the urgency and the slow-burning

to feeling.

the ache to rest and to be rocked
to sleep
by the haunted lullaby
from a day now done.


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