Psalm of Sadness Unknown
Photo credit Cheryl Mravec, June 2019
Continuing on the theme of listening to how our bodies and hearts are connected, I offer another poem I wrote during my chaplain residency. This poem was a reflection on some time I spent on pediatric neurology units. Visiting families with children who were suffering and healing from a wide range of neurological complications and illness deeply affected me. Cerebral palsy is a disability that manifests itself around the time of birth. My cerebral palsy is from a stroke I suffered in utero, damaging the messages from my brain to the left side of my body. With the accompaniment of my peer group, supervisor and writing, I came to recognize how my body carries a loss and sadness, and how not every experience, feeling or facet of our story is told by words.
A Psalm of Sadness Unknown
I met her, sadness hidden within me,
one afternoon while walking through the halls.
A Little girl, baby really, crying from inside me.
Gently wailing notes of fragility and brokenness, my spirit of memories unknown
cry out to be heard and understood.
She dwells with my body.
Sharing wisdom of grief and possible loss.
Definite loss of “ability.”
No words as she’s crying out.
Just feelings.
She’s nowhere to go-
except to be with me.
To be carried through time and space;
in stories and moments until now.
When she, the little girl within becomes a woman.
Longing to breathe and be known. In an instant she comes forth.
But she’s not quite ready for daylight.
She crawls back inside.
Disappears to rest for a time.
But she’s been made known
and her life breathes with me.
She is known so I may understand
and
meet others in their
sadness.
My body and heart now come to remember
the pain and truth of yesterday.
Today- and forevermore.
I bless her- my truth- with loving tears and compassion.
How do you listen to your body and heart with compassion?
