The eternal question

Watching Doctor Who tonight slightly freaked me out.  The story involved a haunted house where the Doctor and Clara could sense someone watching them.  It wasn't until the end of the episode that you found out who/what it was but it reminded me how that sense of someone watching you or a niggling question can consume you.  It can seem to override everything else at times, dulling yourself to whatever else is going on.  A particular question asks itself to all of us.  The eternal question.

The eternal question

Do you feel like you're being watched?
That itch on the back of your neck?
A coolness in your back
tiptoeing up and down your spine?
A shadow flits across the doorway
but a shadow in your mind
or a darkness in your eye?
A spot that grows in strength and breadth
spreading across the synapses
dragging its eternal questions...
who are you?
what have you done?
how will it matter?

Invisible eyes wander,
creeping over every inch
as it leaves its mark upon your skin
a whisper accompanies the itch's steps
Are you enough?
A sliver of ice slips inside your heart
Am I enough?
Was it sufficient?
Will it ever be?
An invisible finger wiggles just once in your mind's eye
time's pendulum swings before the spot
as the spot grows wider
black inky tendrils stretch their disapproval
up and down your back
for all you have done can never be enough.
The watcher laughs its hollow laugh
as your once-straight back curves in hunched concern
its power is the lie
and the lie is a question
Aren't you enough?

But a watcher is merely an observer
and a lie can never be truth
for not behind but beside is one
who does not merely watch
and laugh
not one who observes and tricks
with the eternal lie
No
The one who stands beside
answers the lie
with blinding, glorious, disarming truth
with simplicity so beautiful
the spot which streaked across your synapses
flooding your mind with its inky poison
is stopped in its tracks
shrinks back into the spot it began in
and the spot is gathered within a tear
the watcher can only watch
for his power is in the lie
and the lie's power is broken
as the question is answered
in three simple words:

I am enough

and the tear fell to the floor
for the spot was not more

TheWeeScottie

The whisper in the wind

We all have storms.  Some are fiercer than others, but what they all have in common is they leave us feeling a shadow of ourselves, out of our depth and often like no-one else can understand or give us hope.  But, in the midst of the storm, the rain and the hopelessness is often a whisper in the wind.  The words of one who gives us hope and offers a hand to pull us up to walk above and through the waves.  We are not taken out of the storm's path but are there in that moment enabled to weather it.

The whisper in the wind

I held my eyes closed
what seemed like an age had passed
I dared not, would not,
I could not open them.
Should I?
As I opened my eyes, they were filled
My mind overtaken by the dark thunder clouds,
the lightning that splintered the sky
the thunder which shook me to my bones
and the wind, whipping the waves
into thundering white horses,
their hooves beating against my chest
pushing me down,
forcing me down
I felt myself sinking
lower and lower
for how could I stand
against the furious might of the storm?
I was just too weak

Then, the wind whispered your name
like a freshly honed knife,
it cut through the storm
the rain howled its pain
the thunder burst all around
the lightning tore through my mind
yet your whisper cut through
like a mother's hush
or dawn's first song
My feet stood waist deep
but they suddenly seemed firm
unmovable,
unshakable,
unshaken by the storm
Yours words lodged in my thoughts,
like sun beams etching their warmth
across my clouded mind
all around me was storm
yet in this moment, I knew
this was not who I was.
I was not confusion
I was not pain
I was not chaos or disarray
I was known by one
I was understood
I was loved.
though every part of me screamed with the storm in disagreement
the whisper spoke peace,
like balm to my aching soul;
its truths were the rock beneath me
its love the strength which helped me stand
its hope the light to my eyes which helped me see
the storm had made me forget,
held me in its powerful sway
and beaten and battered me
as I had let it have its way.
Yet, here as the storm raged on,
growing in powerful, raging ferocity,
the whisper began to hold sway.
In my weakness, it gave me strength.
When I did not know, it showed me he knew
Though I felt lost, it whispered my next step.

I lifted my eyes and saw his face
shining like bursts of dazzling sunlight
piercing the dark, cloudy landscape
and in the storm, I glimpsed the rainbow
painted across the canopy of the heavens;
and in the roar of the storm,
hope sang a greater, sweeter song.
I lifted my leg, though they felt like slabs of lead
and stepped forward.
One step at a time
the whisper of your name in my ears.

TheWeeScottie

New poem: Kintsukoroi

Today, I learned a new word: Kintsukoroi. It means:

"To repair with gold". The art of repairing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been made broken.

This is the poem that came to mind.

Kintsukoroi

"To repair with gold". The art of repairing broken pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been made broken.

The pot lay whole on the sideboard

Precious and special

Full of memories, hopes and dreams

Many had touched it, held it, cradled it

Children, adults, visitors, strangers

Many had admired it

Some had love it

Few had hated it

For what it was and what they weren't

Precious and whole

But one day, the perfect was shattered

Perfect pieces flew across the cream white carpet

Peaceful shards dug in deep

And the perfect felt despised

The whole felt shattered,

Its perfection broken,

Its pieces scattered.

No-one walked near

Hands held back

For where is the beauty in brokenness?

Yet one came near

One saw the much loved pot

Saw past the brokenness

Knew the pot it had once been.

Piece by piece, He mended

Tending each crack, one at a time

Splinter by splinter

Piece by piece

And in the cracks He mended the brokenness with beauty

With gold and love He set the pieces in place

Until the pot was whole again

Broken now made whole

Its brokenness inlaid with gold

It's cracks boldly shining

For they made the pot even more beautiful than before

Kintsukoroi

More beautiful for having been broken

And lovingly restored.

Dancing with the dark

A wee poem which came to mind as I read a post called, Dancing with the darkness by a friend of Cat's, Tanya Marlow.  I'd urge you to read her post as it is very honest and incredibly helpful for anyone who's facing a darkness in their life.

Dancing with the dark
I looked out the window and there it stood
My darkness
It stared at me
Waved at me
In its eyes, it said "I'm here.
You can close the curtains
But I am still here.
I am not going away."
My fears and trepidations
stared me straight in my eye.
I raised my hand to the curtain
took a bunch of cloth in my hand
This soothing shield
These patterned blinkers
Drowning out the sound of his voice
Blinding me to his presence
Blanketing my thoughts in soft and warming activities
Things which are good and wonderful
Bright and cheerful
But cannot remove the dark
I raise my hand to the other curtain,
ready to slam them across
and block out the sight, the sound, the memory
if only temporarily
to forget.
But then I decided
I would not shy away
I would hide from my dark no more.
I dropped my hands to my side
And flicked on the light
Brightness shone behind me
light flicked around the window pane
I looked at my dark
I stared it square in the eye
And I decided
I shall dance with my darkness
I shall face my fears
Not alone, for the light is with me
He took my hand in a battle-like grip
And I met his forward step.
We danced and spun,
Pirouetted and jived,
Tangoed and street danced,
Threw our bodies around through all he could give
and with the light, I gave as good as I got.
We danced together, the dark and I,
I did not shy away.
And it controlled me no more
but I learned from the light
to let go my control
and find the strength of the light in the darkness
For how could I learn to dance with my enemy
If I did not take the first step?
I chose to embrace that which frightens me most
My enemy
My darkness
And I danced with my darkness
feeling the light at my side
For the darkness has followed me
All of my life
Yet, in that moment
As we danced, the darkness and I,
My fear fell away
The darkness' power was broken.
Exhausted, we collapsed
On my living room floor
My darkness eyed me,
And at last, I held its stare,
I slept like a babe
With the light all around
Knowing full well
That the darkness was there.

TheWeeScottie

Easter Bunnies and Jesus

Sometimes I wonder about the Easter bunny

I wonder, have you?

Chocolate for all, often for free

Laid out in secret, hidden cunningly

Underneath trees or hidden in bushes

Watching children searching with giggles and pushes?

Does he spy on the kids to see how they react?

I picture him hiding with binoculars and camouflaged hat

And where does a rabbit get that kind of chocolate?

Does he have a machine like a giant sweet magnet,

To filter the sweetness of things around,

To make all the eggs which soon will be found?

And what about foil and the cardboard for boxes?

I think birds wrap the foil, and they're packaged by foxes!

And how does he get them in place for the day?

Why, an army of wildlife take them away

To the young and the old, to the rich and the poor

The bunny brings chocolate to everyone's door.

But it's not just a bunny who accomplishes much

Every year around Easter there's one other as such

His ears were not floppy, or his head crowned with flowers,

But he did wear a crown of thorns which were ours

In his hands not a basket all covered with ribbon

Instead was a cross bar with splinters all ridden

He didn't hop here and there in the sun or the chill

But he did take a crossbar up Calvery's Hill

The bunny takes nothing but leaves us a lot
Jesus takes our shame and pays full for the lot
Where the bunny gave chocolate all wrapped up with string

Jesus gave life, the best life in all Spring
The bunny will leave when the eggs are all gone
Jesus will stay til the journey is done.
The chocolate brings happiness for only a day
Jesus gives hope and life, chasing fear far away.

Sometimes I wonder about the Easter bunny
and all the chocolate treats he brings.
But, this Easter, Jesus comes as well
and forgiveness, hope and new life brings.