I looked Searched. Everywhere.
Under the bed
Behind the curtain
Between the folds of your clothes
In the crack beneath the door
I even looked for it in the
Space between the wings of a dead moth.
I could not find it.
I looked at the sun, and then the moon
I squinted my eyes to see the pattern
And sometimes closed them
Trying to hold the image and somehow
Maybe push it to my heart to hold.
Nothing.
I looked
At the rings left by the tea cup
And in the texture of the crayon strokes
I was desperately trying
To understand
Your world.
I was looking
For perspectives.
That would help me connect
With you, With me
My search was beginning to get frantic
And it matched my rapid shallow breathing
That I had gotten into the habit of.
My stomach hurts from all this
I realize I need to slow down.
The piercing shaft of pain forces
My breathing to be slow..deliberate ..held
My feet to be on the ground more firmly.
And in this pain and through it
I began to see, finally.
And
Slowly.
I found it .
Some unmistakeable traces of it.
In the least expected of places
Amidst the mess of the fights
In the chaos of ‘I’’s
Hidden In-between the silences
And tucked in the corner of the books
Reread with underlines
I could touch it.
With gratitude and gentleness
I could see, something
Which we still call
We.
I marvel at the gift of the pain
And the clarity it brings.
When the mind is forced
to come back to the body
and to this present moment.
The anatomy of pain ,
is still a mystery to me
But the alchemy
Is a gift.
I am grateful for.
