In deep despair I felt that I was stuck Paralysed by grief and guilt I failed.
I had no good defence against attack
From prayer unthought to deeps of logic black My life, my engine ,juddered off the rails I hated God and of “his” Church was sick
Hungry, weak, alone I was in shock The death of one I loved had made me frail
The savage pain of grief turns flesh to brick
I felt Love’s arms around me, death was blocked I knew this goodness, why else would I wail? I thought I hated God but Love had struck
Warm and golden light that did me hold
I’ve told my story here,, it’s not been sold Kind despair that made me long time sit
The living heart knows more than do the wits.
Note sometimes when we are fortunate writing a poem can be a communication with a part of us that we are not normally in touch with consciously. So the line about kind despair was a gift to me because I had not sorted in that way before but in fact it was patience and waiting that brough peace tp my mind and heart.
I think this can happen even if the poem is not a great poem that literary standards but it helps us to get to know the world and our deeper selves. That’s why it’s worth doing it
