Greenfield Word Festival Opens Tonight at 7 pm at the Arts Block in Greenfield, MA.

This is the poem I hope to read tonight if I make it to an open spot. It is from the Chapter Claiming My Life which comes towards the end of my healing process. Come hear the voice that speaks the words:

ROCK

I remember myself
a child 
standing 
in the maelstrom
that was my life.
Bent,
nearly broken.
No foundation.
No comfort.
Only 
the fragility
of one so small,
unable
to tether 
herself
to safety.

That child
is within me now
as the hurricane roars 
and I am blown 
to kingdom come,
my roots 
that I have worked so hard
to anchor 
to this earth,
torn 
from their life-line.

They are ripped up
with me 
as I am thrown
this way and that 
so far
and so fast,
you cannot see me
as I fly past.

There is no 
clinging on.
All 
that held me 
is gone,
obliterated,
lost in the storm
so I am nowhere  — 
only the fleeting,
bare flicker
of my inner flame
still seen.




Then,
somehow  — 
at the words
of a prompt spoken 
as I write
with other women  — 
I remember
the round river rock
smoothed by the water
sunk way down 
in the deepest 
part of me.
So often
I forget
it is there,
that it 
is all the tether 
I need.

I see it
as my deepest self,
the center 
of my being  — 
its blossom,
its promise.
It is there for me
to lean on
and remind me
of the strength
I have inside  — 
my own 
internal structure.

It is the knowing
of who I am,
my solidity,
that I trust
I will gain anew,
along with the knowledge
that some day 
my roots
will never 
be torn 
from the earth.

I will become 
acquainted
again
with this rock
I know 
is inside me
but cannot 
at this moment
feel.
But when I can,
I will collapse 
within its harbor,
its comfort,
taking it up
on its offer 
of asylum.
If I need to,
I will let myself 
off the hook
with everything else,
giving me 
the time and space
to heal 
through this one.

When 
I come to know
this rock once more,
I will also remember
I am no longer a child
but a grown woman
with the strength to weather
any storm.
And I
have the power
to keep my feet
on the ground
even if the worst comes
and I am cut off 
from the world,
alone
on my island.

I have 
the raw fierceness
to not crumble
but instead 
go out
into the hurricane
and raise my arms
to the wind,
harnessing its ferocity
to fill my body
and to feed 
my ability
to grab on
and claim 
my right to live.