Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Thin Ice

The first tender shoots of my daffodils are springing up from the earth and while I get that same pang of excitement, that same joy that comes with their emergence, I also realize that it's January in the midwest which means it's very likely that the February/March snow will freeze the flowers before they get a chance to blossom. Our local weather expert predicts we will see 15-20 inches of snow before February rolls into March and although he can't seem to give us an accurate forecast for the next 48 hours, I still find myself resigned to the fact that regardless, the past doesn't lie. For as many years as I have lived here, we have never escaped the February snow dump.

I can't help but see a parallel between this and my personal life. As we push forward with our reconciliation, my estranged husband and I are both filled with the sense of renewal, our own spring, if you will. I struggle to find a balance. A way to let my heart be open and vulnerable, to give our love room to blossom, but at the same time to protect myself against the urge to surrender, to be bare, raw, exposed...

Wind in time rapes the flower trembling on the vine and nothing yields to shelter it - Fear by Sarah McLachlan

Awhile back I confessed to authoring some really bad poetry. Please forgive me for dumping it on you, but know that there is a method to my madness. To prove my point regarding the nasty habit the past has of rearing its ugly head, here is a poem I wrote to S several years ago and again, just recently:



Sleepless nights, tossing and turning in a sea of insecurities,
how I long to feel the comfort of your embrace, the
Reassurance of your kiss,
Your soul dancing with mine, tangled in hope, devotion, hunger-
Your beauty frightens me. Its lure invites temptation.
This seduction threatens our sweetest poem.

No promise whispered in the darkest of nights,
no tears collected on a virginal blanket of snow,
nor the most tender of kisses or most sensual
caress would murder my fears.
Crippling apprehension borne of betrayal and
Pain I cannot erase
I want to make you my life
Belong to you, but……..
I am so frail, my faith in love so weak,
please just hold me, let me fall softly into you,
You, my sweetest lullaby.

2 Comments:

Blogger Snidget said...

My snowdrops are coming up in the front yard. I'm like you... I get excited when the flowers start appearing.

11:34 AM  
Blogger Aussie Mama said...

I could feel your honesty, fear and pain, beautiful writing.

5:24 PM  

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