Cue angsty poetry.
The walls that close me in are white
While I chase sleep down each night,
Then all I saw changes, and blurs –
I’m warm, the god within me stirs.
The sun I knew ‘ere I grew old
Lights up the dream-rooms hung with gold,
And I glide through them, spectrally,
As I did before death set me free.
Amber has finally laid her head down,
Uneasy as it was when it wore a crown;
The grass waves to me on the breeze,
Now I can see the orange trees
And the sky that covers me for miles
Won’t crush me for this little while.
I breathe freer inside her world –
Gods, she was a happy girl!
Content, I walk the path of flowers,
My thoughts quiet for a few hours,
But all too soon the day grows dark
And he, the child of my heart,
Laughs and plays beneath the trees,
He calls out, starts to run to me.
I put out my arms, wait and pray
I’ll have him with me every day.
Alas, he’s not yet reached me when
God calls on me to sleep again,
And my sight fails, a darkness falls
And Amber wakes to stranger’s walls.
As she rises, leaves her bed,
Other worlds live in her head.
When life hurts, she turns to them,
She smiles to remember when
Her heart was lighter than a feather
And the child and I had forever.
So many years, so many griefs,
Lives that won’t promise to be brief,
That grief of want, that grief of cold,
What the Mystic called despair.
I’m banished from my soul’s true self,
Barred from my native air.
The souls here speak with love to me,
The dear ones I call family;
Whoever I was, whatever I do,
I know I have them to turn to.
But in the dream-rooms I’m alone,
Waiting for stones to be thrown,
And watching the door fearfully,
And I know what happens to me.
But I can’t stop it, I can’t heal,
Her anxious fear is all I feel.
I don’t know what all this is for –
I feel pain now, felt it before,
What do I gain by hurting more?
If I could know, have some goal,
Could understand why my poor soul
May not be happy as she learns…
Why we feel we must return.
I want, till I get my reply,
To sit and let time go by,
To stop moving, make no advance,
And learn nothing in defiance
Till God agrees to stop the pain.
And then we’ll run His maze again,
Dream and create as years go by,
No more crying to the skies.
Suffering would be a memory
And waking to these walls would be
No jolt of fear, only relief,
A reminder that our lives are brief.
Without pain, I would be free,
Whatever walls surrounding me,
I could be the me I’ve always dreamed.
The world would be the way it seemed
To the princess I used to be,
And to the child who became me.
I’m tired, when will the cycle break,
When won’t I be afraid to wake?
When may I stop living in fear?
Gods, when will I be happy here?
– 3 March 2006