2007_02_04
Mother Pages
Mother
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Loving Spirit Finds a Lost
Part of the Mother
"She has had everything she
holds dear taken away from her.
Her children have been killed in front of her.
She has witnessed the torture and death of her beloved.
She has been shamed and laughed at, in front of everyone.
Public humiliation.
They laugh and sneer at her.
Her torment gives them pleasure.
There is nothing more to live for.
She wants to crawl up into a ball,
go down deep into a hole where no one can see her;
no one can torment her any longer.
"Her shame is overpowering.
She has been reduced into the smallest, sniveling, lowest creature.
Life is not worth living.
It mocks her, torments her,
reminds her of all that is not,
of all she is not,
of all that has been taken from her.
There is no comfort,
no one to comfort her,
to make the nightmare go away, no respite.
"I go to her with tears in my eyes,
yearning in my heart for my love to be felt by her, received by
her.
Slowly I approach, not wanting to disturb her.
She is in the reverie of her suffering.
Yet who am I to disturb her,
to pretend to know what can ease her pain.
I offer myself, my undying love and presence, to her.
I want her to know that I love her.
I will not poke at her pain, her shame.
I come to ease her burden,
to honor her being,
to help her reclaim her lost honor.
"Yet something
new must be nurtured here
and she is my guide of what love can birth.
'He's had enough of you!'
they told her as if to explain all that has happened to her.
Her own fault that she has been treated like this.
"She wishes only to drift into
sleep and unconsciousness,
into the void, away from the pain and the shame.
She yearns for the relief to her torment,
an end to the nightmare of her existence.
"At times her rage has flared
up,
trying to escape from the tormenting and the shaming,
lashing out like a wild animal trying to free itself
- but to no avail
Hatred spewing out of her for all that have treat her this way.
Then hatred for herself
for becoming this wild, untamed, hate filled creature of destruction
that she saw in her tormentors.
How could she sink so low to become like them?
Even this, her very dignity, she has lost.
"I come to her as she cowers away from me,
afraid of what else has come her way.
I come with tears in my eyes,
wanting only to comfort her,
to let her know that all is not lost,
because I have found her.
And surely we can slowly, gently, at her pace,
bring back something worthy of being, worthy of living.
"I am
comfortable here
because all else seems so trivial after finding her.
How can I leave?
No, I will not desert her like I've done before
I will not abandon her.
I will stay and bring here to her a gentleness
of love
that asks only to be received when and how it feels good to her.
And hope that she can forgive me for all I
have done,
and all that we have lost.
Through her, real love has a chance to be born
anew."
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