It has been a super-busy May: my birthday, travel to Michigan to see our families on Mother’s Day weekend, our daughter’s college graduation, and our 35th wedding anniversary. I read recent poems at a spirituality group and facilitated a world peace meditation with them. I was (unexpectedly) asked to be on a local cable TV show on using poetry for healing and comfort. What fun! I had three colds (unusual) and I continued doing deep healing work with a goal of being more consistently healthy, with more peace, calm and clarity in my life. I learned a new breathing technique which I practiced daily.
As the month went on, I had thoughts and poems I wanted to post, but the time passed. I did put my name and copyright on all my blog photos and replaced all the unmarked ones.
This recent poem was written as part of my healing work. It was inspired by talking with my friend, Geary Davis, who moderates a spiritual gathering every Thursday evening.
5/28/09
Put Down the Sword of Self-wounding
(after talking to Geary about a ritual to ease pain)
Put down the sword
of self-destruction
and self-immolation,
of self-defeat, self-demolition,
and self-defacing. Stop
stabbing myself in the vulnerable gut
in remorse, guilt, grief, and regret
at what I could not
control or plan or shape.
Melt that sword
into the ploughshare
that carves the furrows
into which I place
the seeds I have been holding back.
Let forgiveness
flood the field,
let love shine upon them,
let the earth be fertile and loam-rich,
and bountiful harvest my just reward.
After all the lifetimes
of all the dark and light alike
let my new life
result from a conscious new choice:
to put down the sword.
No more self-blame
self-criticism or self-judging,
no more crimson shame,
no more self-harsh words,
no more self-unkindness,
no more self-disrespect,
or screaming at myself
at perceived imperfections
or unbearable failings.
Only forgiveness
to the bone of things
to the bottom and top of memory,
forgiveness heaped
on forgiveness, eaten
at a great feast of forgiveness.
And when sated,
love as dessert and
as the main course ever after.
Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2009
Note: definition of immolate
1) To kill as a sacrifice
2) To kill (oneself) by fire
3) To destroy
The American Heritage Dictionary, 3rd edition, 1992
April 2nd was my father’s birthday. Family story has it that his mother held out when she was in labor with him so he would not be born on April Fool’s Day. I don’t know if it works that way, a baby is born when he or she is ready. In any case he was born on April 2.About 23 years ago, when he was just 60, he died of a heart attack following minor surgery. He was a complex man. In many ways I was a Daddy’s girl. But at other times I was an outcast too. I’ve written a lot about many facets of our complex relationship. Here are four of those poems. “The Legacy” is from the very beginning of my poetic journal. “Upon Serious Consideration” I wrote when I was trying to deal with emotions (particularly fear) of being diagnosed with elevated blood pressure, which my dad had for a long time. The other two poems were triggered by contemplating feet and from yoga meditation, respectively. I never know when some bit of truth is going to come through.
