Till today...
I haven't let it sink in
what it was all about
my two weeks alone
in Portugal.
Today
I found out
it was
good for my body
all that
visceral
beauty.
A balm for
my cells.
Not so good
for the
tender
raw
vulnerable
little soul
shaking inside me.
The one who wants
a strong
grown up
to look after her.
Who doesn't know
how to be
alone
when it
doesn't feel
safe.
So maybe it was just too soon
for a wounded heart
to be stranded
for so long
in a place
so full of
remembered
togetherness.
They say you have to
feel it
to heal it.
Well, you have to breathe first
mindfully
in and out
to know you are alive.
So holding my breath
for two weeks
not knowing
it was safe
I didn't feel
very much
at all.
In the places
that are hurting.
Instead
I let my legs take me
into the saltiness
and the sweetness
of the
sea air
and breathed that
salve
into
my blood.
Which
in turn
is cradling
the soreness
of my heart.
