Sowmya Hiremat

I am the good girl that
Shunned her shadow &
Was forced to kiss them!
They tasted of pain & 
Grief & loss & hate & shame.
It was my own Auschwitz
Within, desperate to hold
On to hope amidst the
Invisible, internal torture of
The Dark soul of the night.

When I had learnt to cradle
My two year old wee self 
I was an old scarred crone
With brittle nails, dried hair
Wrinkled skin, foul mouth,
A Formidable stance on life
And to prioritize the wee girl
For, in her lay my magnum opus.

I stay true to her calling 
& defend her voice
Through her the angels
Sing the song of my North Star
The shadows are now
Little big dragon babies 
magic & treasure & wisdom.
They march to her drums
For they are in love with her.
I think back & laugh at my
Silly detests of them meeting her.

That ignorance almost 
Killed my Self! Denying 
Them shadows the chair
At my table would have
Left me too ill to live yet 
unable to die. Great full
for the insistent grace.. 
It led me into the darkness 
within, which then led me 
to the light all around…
With love like no-other
Could ever give me. 

Kind of love that can 
sail you across oceans
& depths of suffering. 
Kind of love, always shining 
No matter how big a storm.
An eternal sun to guide you
On your path to redemption..
From eternal suffering. Not pain.
The kind that can birth you
Anew, yet again into this world
& show you, like it did to me;
Birthing oneself is a heroic 
Act of immense love & pain.