Tuesday 31st March 3pm – My poem is coming,
Primroses and a velvet cat remind me not to forget.
I come up the garden to collect it.
Lying back, I see the sky above me
“I want to dive in naked, lose myself in your depths”, sing the Waterboys “I want to be with you and find myself in the best of dreams.
Your love feels like summer”.
My back is against the earth, My body breathing,
My jaw releases and I Drop,
Drop down into the arms of the Earth.
My shoulders, arms and hands ache.
I let my head go And release, surrender.
I arrive back in my animal body where everything is so much easier
And the wind strokes my face.
How can I have come so far down a path where something that is so right Feels so impermissible?
A path where a mother can repeat to her daughter,
that a woman who reads is no good to anyone.
Stop for a moment, look up from this path and question.
Is this really the right way?