NOT THE END

In my head, this poem is a song. But either way, it’s for the people I love who are hurting today.

shorts and longs - peonies - julie rybarczyk
Some days
it’s clear
where my hope can go from here,
where the person in the mirror
is gonna land.

Some days
I know
where the flames are coming from,
where I know I need to run
to get away.

But when the burn comes
from the inside,
when I’m blindsided
by the fire,
when they told me I was safe,
but they were liars.

When the flames lap
at my edges,
when I’m cornered
by unknowns,
when I lift my eyes and find
I’ve lost my home.

I try to
see the logic.
Is someone
here to blame?
I search for some
escape.
I curse this game.

But
all
I
see
is what is now,
and what is not.

And
all
I
feel
is what I wish
and what is lost.

And
all
I
know
is I am here
and I can
breathe.

So I will
breathe.

And I will
breathe.

And I will
breathe.

And, somehow,

I’ll believe

that this
moment

is not the end.

__
I have had phone call after phone call lately from dear friends who are overcome with pain. Every kind imaginable, from every kind of source. But, for all of them, there is one thing in common: The pain came suddenly, and from the last place they expected it. Their own bodies. Their minds. Their loved ones. Their safe places.

And then the news Sunday.

Oh, such pain in Orlando, leaking out onto all of us. And it, too, happened in a place that should have been safe.

Lord, have mercy.

I’m no expert, but I have known pain. And I’ve learned that sometimes the only thing that can be done, when the pain is intense, is to keep breathing. I once blogged about the song below. During an incredibly painful time, I listened to it 84 times in three days, just to keep myself breathing.

Here’s to hope and healing. May it come quickly.

xxoo

1 Comment

  • Margaret Abelleira

    Beautiful!

     

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