I M Perfect lady

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  • Tree In Tree

    By Deena Metzger

    “I am no longer afraid of mirrors where I see the sign of the amazon, the one who shoots arrows.
    There was a fine red line across my chest where a knife entered,
    but now a branch winds about the scar and travels from arm to heart.
    Green leaves cover the branch, grapes hang there and a bird appears.
    What grows in me now is vital and does not cause me harm. I think the bird is singing.
    I have relinquished some of the scars.
    I have designed my chest with the care given to an illuminated manuscript.
    I am no longer ashamed to make love. Love is a battle I can win.
    I have the body of a warrior who does not kill or wound.
    On the book of my body, I have permanently inscribed a tree.”
    Deena

    Today while delivering mail, I listened to the CD that accompanies the book, “Saved by a Poem” by Kim Rosen.

    There were many poems, or lines in the poems that spoke to me, but the image of this one stuck with me.

    If you go to her website, http://www.deenametzger.com you will see a fabulous woman who is fully embracing I M Perfect.

    She had a mastectomy and placed a tattoo upon the scar…

  • Love after Love, by Derek Walcott

    The time will come

    when, with elation,

    you will greet yourself arriving

    at your own door,

    in your own mirror,

    and each will smile at the other’s welcome

    and say, sit here. Eat.

    You will love again the stranger who was your self.

    Give wine. Give bread.

    Give back your heart

    to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

    all your life, whom you ignored

    for another, who knows you by heart.

    Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

    the photographs, the desperate notes,

    peel your own image from the mirror.

    Sit. Feast on your life.

    —Derek Walcott

    I heard this recited by Kim Rosen on Sirius Radio with Ed Bacon, she wrote a book called, “Saved by a Poem”. I have it on hold at the library. Until then, I have browsed her website and found this poem.

  • Balloon of Dreams!

    “Walking against the dream…” came to me in yoga, that why it has been such a struggle, I am walking the opposite of my dreams.

     

    The dream was born with abuse, and what we cling to with our lives is the dream.

     

    A dream that is opposite of reality, a dream of denial, a dream of illusion, a dream, a figment of our imagination.

     

    My dream began as a very young girl, I lived in that dream, that dream was more than my reality.  It was warm and cozy, loving and caring, a blanket that kept out the ugly truths.

     

    What I failed to realize is that walking in reality wasn’t as hard as destroying the dream.

     

    The dream was more precious to me than reality.

     

    The dream was where I was loved, where I was good enough, where I mattered, ‘to them’.

     

    I worked hard to keep that dream alive and now in the past five years I was working hard to destroy my lovingly safe place.

     

    It is shocking to know this, and incredible to realize that denial is the dream.

     

    The word denial being a dream land didn’t penetrate into me, that the application of this is to be living in and breathing in, a space that is loving cozy and warm while interacting in real life with the opposite.

     

    Denial is a balloon, a bubble that floats above reality.  I was a bubble girl!

     

    What I realized in yoga as I thought of the quilt I made with the little girl and her balloon, is that on the quilt there are beads running up into the balloon, and now I know those beads are tears.

     

    When you shed enough tears, the balloon breaks like a water balloon bursts.

     

    It leaves you naked, no blanky to cover with, nothing to hide under, you are left with a broken balloon of dreams.

     

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