Waves batter against jagged rocks, eddy and swirl. Retreat. Convictions accuse my jagged soul, eddy and swirl. Repeat. Does the wave wish it were further along? Does it desire an improved surface to break upon? More polished, refined? Is the wave ever haunted with feeling behind? I crave a safe harbor for the lapping, lapping. Waves break. Dawn breaks. My hope aches, cracks open. A whooshing in my ears, a throb in my chest. I brace my feet against the emptiness. I strain to see the signs of progress. Glinting signposts in the storm. I dream of stillness, water waveless. To be a rock with edges smooth and worn. I cling to a fantasy, stagnant, dormant. Bristle at the call to be reborn. Sundays I seek re-vision, release resistance. Compassion pulsing in the salty spray. To feel with, unjudging, nudging welcome. A tenacious surrender to the relentless waves. I tenderly cradle my jagged edges. Become the safe harbor that I crave.
***
I’d love to know, what part of the poem resonated with you? How are you learning to become a safe harbor for yourself?
Aly, thank you for sharing your lovely words with us, in poetic form. Your words rolled over me like unrelenting waves. There's a choppiness to the rhythm that evokes the repetitive/tiresome(?) nature of being polished/reborn. The last three lines undo me: "A tenacious surrender to the relentless waves. / I tenderly cradle my jagged edges. / Become the safe harbor that I crave."
"I cling to a fantasy, stagnant, dormant.
Bristle at the call to be reborn."
So we'll written. Dealing with trauma and persuing growth and healing is a very hard and very necessary thing. Learning to cope and thrive comes with a benefit in the end, but the journey is a struggle (yet worthwhile).